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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27326593">Seeking Saviours</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesya/pseuds/Lesya'>Lesya</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Arthur POV, Arthur doesn't know but he Suspects, Arthur knows about Emrys, Canon Divergence, F/F, M/M, Merlin POV, Morgana POV, POV Change, Plotty, Romance, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:35:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>43,818</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27326593</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesya/pseuds/Lesya</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Emrys will come!”</p><p>Those words rang out across the courtyard. They seemed to go on and on, forever, stretching beyond the courtyard and the castle walls. They stretched out across all of Camelot to some foreign kingdoms, crossing vast forests, rivers, and villages. </p><p>Arthur was sure the whole world heard the dying sorcerer.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Balinor/Hunith (Merlin), Gwen/Morgana (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>113</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Part 1: Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hey y'all. happy halloween!! i was going to wait to post this when it was all done, but i decided to let it loose lol. this story diverges from canon, though how far is yet to be seen. i'm starting off with season 1 of the show, so every chapter will be either an episode or a combination of them (and i might reorder the episodes cuz i feel it makes more sense). this is also a slow burn and im only about three chapters in and its already got about 34k words, so if you want something quick and short, this is not it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Emrys will come!”</em>
</p><p>Those words rang out across the courtyard. They seemed to go on and on, forever, stretching beyond the courtyard and the castle walls. They stretched out across all of Camelot to some foreign kingdoms, crossing vast forests, rivers, and villages.</p><p>Arthur was sure the whole world heard the dying sorcerer.</p><p>All stood in horrified silence as the scent of slowly cooking flesh filled the air. The sorcerer said nothing else; he couldn’t say much now that he was busy screaming. The eyes were surely melting, pouring out of the sockets, though he couldn’t tell from the distance. It was a gruesome sight for sure, but the screams were more gruesome still.</p><p>He did not break. He held his position at his father’s side, face turned to stone. The citizens were allowed their horror, but Arthur got no such allowances. He was to be strong and strength meant showing no mercy.</p><p>Still, those words had dug into his mind with their claws and would not leave his mind. Was this magic? Was it some spell? <em>Am I the only one so affected?</em> A quick peek at his father told him he wasn’t. He scrutinized that hard face, trying to gauge the King’s feelings on the sorcerer’s proclamation. He hadn’t been expecting to find peace and calm and he was not disappointed; King Uther looked ready to bring the sorcerer back to life just to kill him again.</p><p>Arthur didn’t understand the significance of this Emrys thing (or person?), but his father surely did, for why else would he be so murderously angry?</p><p>Those words haunted Arthur through the halls of the castle, following after him as he left the scene of the execution. He didn’t bother attending to any of his duties; he knew there would be little point to them when father was sure to call the council. His deep thought was broken by what he heard of the servants’ gossip; they were all terrified and bewildered. A few didn’t take the threat to heart. <em>They must be new, then.</em></p><p>The council was called for a discussion on how to proceed. Everyone was thinking one thing. Those damned words. Were they some sort of rallying cry? Or just the desperate last words of a dying man? Was it nothing after all? Or were they to prepare for a siege? No one had any answers, not even Gaius, whom father questioned first. After his failure to deliver any information, the councilors devolved into a raging debate, spitting everywhere on the table. Arthur tried to pay attention, but it was difficult with so many voices shouting at once. His father looked on, eyes moving from one lord to the next as though he was paying perfect attention and could hear them all fine. Arthur hoped he wouldn’t need to develop this sort of skill himself.</p><p>“Order,” his father said, tone cold and demanding. The lords did not react. “Order, I said! Quiet you fools or you’ll be joining that damned sorcerer next!”</p><p>That seemed to break through their shouting matches. They all shut up instantly and some of the lords who’d been in the process of climbing over the table sat back down into their chairs, looking prim and proper.</p><p>“We have reached the conclusion that we don’t have sufficient knowledge to deal with this potential threat,” King Uther said. “The only way to fix this is to prepare for the worst.”</p><p>A siege. They’ll be preparing all the knights and guards for siege on Camelot. Arthur could not disagree with this, as he had no way of knowing what sort of threat they might face, but he knew there was another thing they could do.</p><p>“I have a suggestion,” he said when no one spoke up. The king turned to him, waiting. “I think we should send someone out to gather some information. As you said, we know nothing. So, what best way to solve that problem then by simply learning?”</p><p>“A fine point, my prince,” said Lord Amarack. “But the issue is, who do we turn to? We cannot go to another kingdom, lest they think we have some sort of weakness. And the only other ones who may know of this magical thing are magical beings themselves.”</p><p>And, as they all knew, magical beings were not keen on Camelot for obvious reasons. Still, Arthur could not let this go by.</p><p>“You both make fine points. I will send a trusted man out to try and gather some information where they can,” King Uther replied.</p><p>“I can also make some inquiries to my colleagues. I will not mention anything specific about our state of business, of course,” Gaius said.</p><p>The king agreed with that as well and the council was adjourned. Everyone scurried away to perform their duties. The energy of the castle was nervous and taut, a string ready to snap.</p><p>“Arthur,” the king called. He turned to him and approached. The hall was empty now, save for the two of them. “I want you at the head of the knights and command the wall.”</p><p>Arthur blinked a few times. He’d been so sure he would be the one ordered to go out. Surely such a dangerous mission should be fulfilled with no one but him?</p><p>“But who will go out, then?”</p><p>“Leon. I trust him well enough to complete the task and do it well.”</p><p>The words nearly ripped through his teeth, but he managed to keep them caged. He almost bit his tongue off to keep the “but” unspoken. His father had been clear in his order and Arthur knew, no matter how he pleaded, once his mind was made Uther rarely changed it.</p><p>He told himself that it didn’t matter. Arthur set out to do his duty as usual and protect his subjects from whatever sorcery was about to hit them.</p><p>It’s what he told himself, but that night, as he went to bed, he knew he would not let his own conviction go. His father may be stubborn, but Arthur was his son and he was even more so. He woke early, so early the sun had not yet greeted them. No servant was in his room, so he got up quickly and dressed himself as best he could. He got his sword and some mail, but left behind anything identifying him as being of Camelot.</p><p>He snuck out of his rooms while the guard were changing shifts and ran down to the stables, trying to avoid everyone else. He’d thought surely everyone would be asleep, but they were all scrambling about, air filled with tension as they waited for the cast die to land.</p><p>But none were so affected as King Uther.</p><p>He wasn’t just tense; his eyes were filled with cold fury, his words sharp like a fresh sword. He commanded the guards to keep a stricter watch, especially at night. Some were to walk through Lower Town at sundown. They wouldn’t stand much chance against magic, but it would work to dispel the peasants’ fears to see some kingsmen. Others were told to stand watch atop the walls.</p><p>Sentries were sent out to patrol outside of Camelot, into the forests and plains surrounding the city.</p><p>The knights remained close to keep watch over the lords and ladies of the court.</p><p>Important and noble though they were, they did not escape Uther’s wrath. The nobility of Camelot had their own keeps and castles and knights under their own command. They were to order said knights to raise arms and patrol around their own castles. Should the need arise, they would march on Camelot to help secure victory. Usually the lords and ladies had little to worry over as most of the attacks came directly to Camelot, but some of the minor lords and ladies suffered from sorcery as well.</p><p>Arthur managed to keep out of sight of the king, but in all his care he hadn’t managed to avoid the one person he least wanted to run into.</p><p>Morgana.</p><p>She was supposed to be kept to her chambers with guards at her door standing day and night. Yet, here she was, standing mere inches from him, a gleam in her eye. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it meant.</p><p>“Going somewhere?” she asked. Her smile was knowing, as it usually was.</p><p>“Yes. Preferably away from you,” he said. “Shouldn’t you be in your room?” he asked, making sure to make his voice as obnoxious as possible. It worked, because she lost her smile as her mouth twisted in distaste.</p><p>She rolled her eyes. “Running away. I’m bored of my chambers.”</p><p>“You’ve barely been a day in them.”</p><p>“Well, it’s not so much about how long I’m in there as it is about the fact that I have no choice but to be. The heart wants what it doesn’t have.”</p><p>Arthur snorted. “Didn’t know you had one.”</p><p>“Neither do you, apparently. Truly, you must be heartless to be going behind your dear father’s back like this.”</p><p>“I’m doing nothing of the sort.”</p><p>“Oh?” she asked, brow raised.</p><p>They stood in silence, watching each other. Morgana narrowed her eyes. “You don’t look like you’re heading up to the walls. If anything, it appears you’re heading down to the courtyard. Where the stables are.”</p><p>
  <em>Curse her. Why must she always stick her nose in my business?</em>
</p><p>“How the hell do you know that?” the command was given only yesterday and he hadn’t spoken to Morgana. And he’s sure his father doesn’t have a habit of telling her all the commands he’d given out any given day.</p><p>“The benefit of being friends with a servant; they overhear all sorts of things while self-important lords forget they exist.”</p><p>He sighed. “Go back to your rooms. I’m going out to find out more. Hopefully whatever I find will be enough to quell father’s temper.”</p><p>“I don’t see the point in it. I hardly doubt anything will happen.”</p><p>“You don’t know that.”</p><p>“I do. I would’ve dreamed it if it were.”</p><p>Arthur snorted. “Your silly little dreams don’t mean anything, Morgana.”</p><p>“My silly little dreams predicted that man dying.”</p><p>“You best not say things like that.”</p><p>“Why? It’s true.”</p><p>“Pray it isn’t true or you may be in his place next.” It wasn’t a threat and he hoped she did not take it as such. For all that she annoyed him, he would not want to see her die some gruesome death. Uther may favor her, but Arthur doubted he would show mercy even to his own ward if she were discovered practicing magic.</p><p>Her face was grim. He knew she was no fool. She could be brash and bold, but she knew the dangers well.</p><p>“I wish you safe passage to wherever it is you’re going. I hope you are successful in your pursuit.” She says it like it’s a prayer. It’s solemn and lacking any mockery her tone would’ve usually had. Looking at her, he doesn’t see a young woman, but an ancient one, eyes worn away by millennia.</p><p>He shudders as she walks away.</p><p>He heads down to the stables and finds his horse, Llamrei. There would be no point trying to hide. They’ll all know he’s gone when he doesn’t show up for his duties. It pained him, to think of it like that. He wasn’t one to abandon responsibility so easily, but he felt this is something he must do. Ever since he heard those words, he felt compelled to know what they meant.</p><p>Perhaps it really was some curse and he was heading for doom.</p><p>Regardless, he couldn’t stand the thought of sitting around and doing nothing when he could be out there, fighting and protecting his kingdom.</p><p>It pained him to know there wasn’t much he could do to quell his people’s worries.</p><p>Geoffrey had no information of value, though he’d promised to research in his books. Gaius said almost nothing, at least not of value. Arthur had seen his father’s shrewd eye, but he hadn’t pushed, so Arthur assumed his father believed Gaius.</p><p>Arthur, on the other hand, had some doubts. Gaius always knew something when it came to problems of a magical nature. So, for Gaius to be so tight-lipped seemed suspicious, though why he’d lie was a mystery. And with nothing better to do, Arthur decided this was a mystery worth pursuing.</p><p>So, last night, he’d cornered Gaius. In the physician’s quarters, he was busy brewing some potion, instead of sleeping. His eyes were drooping and his mouth was a thin frown. He’d looked haggard, ready to keel over.</p><p>“Ah, sire,” he’d greeted upon noticing him. “What brings you here?”</p><p>Arthur ignored the question. “Are you quite alright, Gaius? You seem tired.”</p><p>“Oh, it’s nothing major. It’s just this whole business has made the people anxious. They see how urgent the king is acting and fear something might be coming for them! The lords and ladies have been demanding treatments in advance, just in case. And some can’t sleep, so I’ve been making sleeping draughts like the ones I make for Morgana.”</p><p>“I see. I’m sorry father has been keeping you so busy. I’m sure it will all blow over soon.”</p><p>“I pray for my own health it does,” he replied in a joking manner. “Is there something you wanted?”</p><p>“Yes. I’ve meant to ask you a question.”</p><p>“About?”</p><p>“Emrys.”</p><p>“Arthur,” he said his name with clear exasperation. “I’ve already told everything I know.”</p><p>“Have you? Gaius, <em>please</em>. I know there’s more to this. Just tell me something. Anything!”</p><p>“What will you have me do? Lie? How well do you think that will go if something is found out? Hm?”</p><p>Arthur sighed.</p><p>“I’m not asking you to lie to me. Or the king. I am only asking you to help me. Please.”</p><p>“I wish I could do that, sire,” Gaius said, voice filled with regret and face twisted in grief. <em>He doesn’t regret not knowing. It is his fear that holds him back.</em></p><p>“Gaius, I swear to you. I swear, whatever it is you know, I will not tell a word of it to father. I swear on my life.”</p><p>Gaius took a deep breath and when he let it out, he seemed to sink into himself, all his worries weighing him down. <em>I had thought he’d be relieved to talk.</em></p><p>“I’m sorry, sire. I cannot help.” And with that, Gaius turned back to his potions, completely ignoring Arthur. He was the prince, but in that moment he was but a boy, disturbing the Royal Physician from his duties.</p><p>He sighed and turned to leave, already trying to think where he could go next before being stopped by a quiet voice.</p><p>“The druids. I hear they know many strange things, knowledge not found in books.”</p><p>Arthur did not turn back but he did say a <em>thank you</em>.</p><p>That night his dreams were filled with whispers of Emrys and swirling colors of blue and gold and red. Whatever this was, it was hounding him as it was hounding his father.</p><p> </p><p>Getting out of Camelot is not as hard as he’d thought it would be. He’s just a rider, passing through. Some even mistake him for Leon, though the distance probably helps with the illusion. He gallops past the walls and out into the wilderness in search of the people that dwell there.</p><p>The druids. <em>Of course</em>. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? <em>Maybe because father had them killed and drove them from our lands. And I cannot judge him, for I did not fight as hard as I could’ve against his orders. I witnessed their deaths at mine and my knights’ hands. And now I intend to seek their help.</em></p><p>It was madness, he knew. He planned to ride out on his own to ask for magical information from magical people who hated him and his father. For all that the druids were said to be peaceful, even they must have some limits.</p><p>Still, he could not sit here and be driven mad. King Uther was mighty displeased; Arthur remembers how stricken his father had looked after the man had yelled those three cursed words. It seemed his father did not feel the usual bout of victory over magic.</p><p>Instead he’d been furious, raging at everyone and anyone.</p><p>Arthur has never seen his father this incensed and distrustful. Every time a councilor failed to present the knowledge he needed, he looked more ready to execute them. They’d all sat at the table, quiet as ever for fear of saying the wrong thing, though that was easier said than done when the King was expecting you to say things. He’d seen them struggle, trying to be of some sort of use, while also acknowledging they had nothing to offer. They only spoke when they were spoken to. It did not seen to make his father happy, though.</p><p>
  <em>Perhaps nothing can, not anymore. </em>
</p><p>He had seen his father laugh and have a good time during feasts, but it was short-lived before he went back to his stoic, if somewhat cold, self.</p><p>His plan to disobey orders and ride out of the castle to the druids would certainly not make his father happy. But if he were successful, then perhaps his father would calm and everything would be as it should be.</p><p>It was up to Arthur now to do something.</p><p>He’ll just have to find this Emrys thing one way or another.</p><p> </p><p>He rode all day, east into the forest of Ascetir. He was sure he’d find some druids there and if he didn’t, he’d have to ride further east, beyond the borders of Camelot. He really hoped there’d be no need for it; he didn’t look forward to being in enemy territory all on his own.</p><p>When he was sure he was deep enough in the woods, he slowed his horse to a steady trot and tried to keep a constant watch on his surroundings. It didn’t help that it was nearing night and the moon was barely up, with little light to give. And what it could give was not enough to penetrate the layers of leaves up above, piled together to form a thick green sea. He could not see the setting sun now.</p><p>Since his human sight was entirely useless in the dead of night, he mostly relied on his ears, but he heard no human in the forest. There was no campfire, no clang of pots, no flaps of tents, or cheer or laughter.</p><p>Arthur was the only person in the world.  </p><p>An owl gave out a hoot. Somewhere in the distance, leaves of a bush rustled. And not far, the steady stream of water rushing along could be heard. His fist clenched the reigns and he grit his teeth. He steadied his breath to calm his heart.</p><p>He felt as if this night had been forever. It was just him on his horse in an endless night, riding and riding, searching for a dawn that will never rise.</p><p>But rise it did, as it always does. And finally, exhausted from lack of sleep and constant vigilance in the night, he stumbled upon an old man at the stream. Or <em>a</em> stream. Who knew if it was the same one, Arthur barely knew where he was.</p><p>The old man heard him and looked up from what he was doing – washing up, it seemed. He gave Arthur a small smile, welcoming and curious.</p><p>“Hello, stranger,” the man said. As Arthur approached, he got a better look at him; he was grey at the temples, but his hair was all in place. He had a beard to go along with it, carefully trimmed, and a moustache on his lip. His clothes were plain, as plain as any peasant’s.</p><p>But from where his shirt sleeve had ridden up, Arthur could see a familiar mark that distinguished the man as a druid.</p><p>“Hello,” Arthur replied eventually. “May I ask for your name?” he asked. He was here to question, not demand, and he would remind himself that every time he spoke. He could not afford insult and he didn’t wish to threaten anyone – it’s why he came alone in the first place.</p><p>“Of course. I’m Ælfheah.”</p><p>“Ælfheah. I am -”</p><p>“Prince Arthur.”</p><p>Arthur didn’t hold back his surprise.</p><p>“You know who I am. Yet, you called me a stranger.”</p><p>“Well, I know <em>of</em> you. That does not mean you are not a stranger to me.”</p><p>Arthur had to concede the point.</p><p>“Tell me, Prince Arthur, what brings you to Ascetir? You appear to be alone.”</p><p>“I am.”</p><p>The man stared at him, waiting for him to continue. Arthur decided to take this moment of silence to get off his horse; he wanted to be level with the man and it would not do to continue looking down upon him.</p><p>Feet firmly on the ground, he looked to the man, looked him in the eye. Ælfheah did not avert his eyes, but met him head on. In court this would be a sign of utmost disrespect, but here, in the middle of a forest, it meant nothing.</p><p>“You’re a druid,” Arthur said.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Are you alone here?”</p><p>“Why do you ask?”</p><p>“I was reliably informed that the druids might possess something I’m looking for. Or, at least, knowledge of it.”</p><p>Ælfheah did not look too pleased with Arthur’s response. His open eyes turned wary, but he did not lose his smile, though it did lessen.</p><p>“I see. And what is this thing you seek?”</p><p>“Truthfully? I’m not entirely sure. All I have is a name.”</p><p>The man gave a thoughtful hum.</p><p>“Curious, indeed. So? What is the name?”</p><p>“Emrys,” Arthur said with no hesitation.</p><p>The man’s eyes widened and his mouth gaped. It appears that Arthur has struck gold.</p><p>“And where exactly did you hear of this?” his voice rushed out, and his body followed, coming close to Arthur. He didn’t appear threatening; if anything, he looked frightened. Arthur was sure whatever this was, it was dangerous and that was all the more reason he had to know. This was for Camelot and its safety.</p><p>“That isn’t important,” he replied quickly. He didn’t wish to lie, but he doubted telling the truth would be very productive. “What’s important is that I need to know what it is. I know it must be magical and its existence does not please my father. I wish to learn more, to soothe his ire.”</p><p>Ælfheah took a step back and sighed.</p><p>“I cannot tell you, my lord.”</p><p>“But -”</p><p>“You are a good son, to seek peace of mind for your father. However, I’m afraid this knowledge will do nothing to temper Uther’s rage,” Ælfheah answered. Arthur dropped his head, ready to accept that this trip was for nothing, when Ælfheah spoke up again.</p><p>“However, I believe it is important for you to hear this. I will tell you about Emrys, but I warn you, I do not know much.”</p><p>“Anything is good enough.”</p><p>And so Arthur was led to a large fire where they sat. The druids who’d been dallying around their camp all gathered around to listen in. They had watched Arthur warily as he approached, but seeing him with Ælfheah and without a retinue seemed to calm them.</p><p>“Emrys is not a thing,” he began. “Not a <em>what</em>, but a <em>someone</em>. It is a title given to a legend. Some believe this legend to be true, though none have witnessed his rise.”</p><p>“His?” Arthur asked.</p><p>“Emrys is a title given to the most powerful sorcerer to ever live.”</p><p><em>Great</em>.</p><p>This is exactly what he needed. He might just be king sooner than later; his father will undoubtedly go into an apoplectic shock and die of heart failure upon hearing this.</p><p>“And you said he is only a legend?”</p><p>“Well, he is certainly <em>legendary</em>. He is mentioned in an old prophecy that many still believe will come to pass.”</p><p>That would explain why a dying sorcerer would shout something like that. It was a desperate plea for revenge, a cry for retribution against King Uther the Tyrant.</p><p>“This prophecy…what does it say about him?” Arthur asked.</p><p>“I don’t know the exact wording, and these things do matter when it comes to prophecies, but he is said to be the one responsible for bringing back magic to Albion.”</p><p>Arthur took a deep breath.</p><p>“But only after it is united by the Once and Future King.”</p><p>“And that is…?”</p><p>“I do not know. No one does. These two men are legendary, and yet, unknown. But it is believed that Emrys and this King will work together; their destinies are entwined.”</p><p>“Do you believe they are real? This king and sorcerer?”</p><p>“Does it matter what I believe?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Ælfheah sighed.</p><p>“I believe that they are real. I trust in the prophecy and what has been foreseen. However, I do not know whether it will come to pass in my lifetime. Perhaps it is meant to happen in the distant future, in many hundreds of years. Perhaps it will happen in a few years. Maybe they’re both already walking the earth.”</p><p>Arthur hoped not. Something struck him, suddenly, and he had to know.</p><p>“I know you said that you don’t know the exact words of the prophecy, but does it mention Emrys ever killing King Uther?”</p><p>“Your father? No, I do not believe he’s mentioned in the prophecy at all.”</p><p>Arthur couldn’t resist a sigh of relief. Well, that means regardless of his father’s wishes, he won’t be the one to unite Albion. But then, why should Arthur trust these stories?</p><p>“However, it is mentioned that Emrys will be the doom of someone. A powerful witch.”</p><p>Ah, well then.</p><p>If he’s to kill a witch, Arthur can’t very much begrudge this mythical man.</p><p>“And this king? What else does it say about him?”</p><p>“That I do not know. I don’t believe anything else is mentioned besides what I’ve already told you, but I cannot be certain.”</p><p>“Well, that’s alright. This is already more than I knew yesterday. I thank you for your knowledge.”</p><p>He could be courteous, yes, even if he did think this whole thing was nonsense. But at least he had something to give to his father and hopefully, after hearing it was all some sort of legend, he would calm and everything can go back to normal.</p><p> </p><p>Ælfheah invited him to stay the night despite the fact that Arthur felt like an intruder. The druids did not want anything from him, so all he could do was thank them for their hospitality; heavens knows Arthur doesn’t deserve it.</p><p>After he’d eaten his bit of cheese, ham, and bread, he went into the tent he set up for himself. He took out his sleep roll and tried his best not to think about where he was. The druids wouldn’t slit his throat in the middle of the night, he had to believe that.</p><p>He worried that there might be an attack or a raid, but apparently they’d never suffered any attacks, claiming that something was protecting them. Magic, Arthur figured.</p><p>He tried not to think about that.</p><p>He doesn’t know how long he lay there, thinking about what the druid told him. This whole mess was started because of some man who believed a little too strongly in a fairy tale. And yet, Arthur could not stop thinking about this Emrys fellow. And the other one, what was he called-</p><p>The quiet of the night was suddenly disturbed. The rustle of leaves had been loud, loud enough that he knew he did not imagine it. And loud enough to tell him something was near.</p><p>The druids had said they were protected, so whatever it was would probably go away on its own and anyway, they were in a forest; all manner of creatures came out at night to conduct their hunts.</p><p>He tried to keep all this in mind, but his instincts won over his logic. He was a trained warrior and he felt something was amiss. So, gathering all his courage – and his sword – he quietly snuck out of his tent. The night was dark, the moon and stars hidden by the canopy up above, but he could still make out vague shapes of bushes and trees. He scanned the forest, looking for the telltale sign of glowing animal eyes, but found nothing.</p><p>The rustle was so loud he’d been sure it was either human or a wolf or something as big as. And yet, he saw nothing, not even a squirrel or a bird.</p><p>Beyond that initial rustle, the night was quiet as the dead.</p><p>That didn’t do anything for his nerves; he was only more on edge, his knuckles turning white at his unforgiving grip on the hilt of his sword. His breath was coming quick and short, his eyes wild as they quickly scanned the perimeter of the camp.</p><p>No one else was out and about. All the druids were away in their tents, sleeping peacefully and unaware of anything amiss. Perhaps they were right, perhaps there truly was nothing to fear. And yet, Arthur’s paranoia only grew. </p><p>He’d never particularly liked the dark. Most people don’t, he knows. Gaius had told him a story about how fire was man’s first invention, to keep the night at bay. He could very easily believe that. When he was a child, he would get so frightened at night, he’d end up running to Morgana’s chambers and asking to stay with her. She would always make fun of him, tease him, but let him stay anyway. Now that he thinks back, the teasing was probably a distraction as much as it had been genuine mockery; instead of focusing on his fear, he’d instead gotten angry with Morgana, angry enough to bicker. And after a few arguments, he was tired out enough to fall into an easy sleep. That had ended, of course, after they’d gotten older and it was no longer deemed appropriate.</p><p>Father hadn’t been too pleased with him. So, he learned to master his fear. Spending nights out on patrol in the middle of forests certainly helped to acclimate him. Still, that residual animal fear remained somewhere, tucked deep inside. And now, he felt it come undone in him, felt it rise to the top.</p><p>He pressed his lips together, he tensed his muscles to keep from shaking.  </p><p>Morgana had never been afraid, he remembered. Or maybe she was just good at hiding her fear. The only fear he’d seen from her was fear of marriage to an old oaf. But then, Arthur was sure the old oaf in question had more to fear from her than she him.</p><p>The dark was gone. A bright light shone out, from somewhere ahead of him, beyond the camp. His arm came up, trying to shield his eyes from the onslaught, but it was such a powerful light that it did nothing to help and Arthur was blinded for a good few seconds. Its appearance had been instant, one moment dark and then the next, brighter than any sunny day.</p><p>It was like a star had fallen from the night sky and landed right here in front of him.</p><p>For many seconds, all was white, but it deemed to have mercy on him and began to recede back into the forest. He blinked and lowered his arm, trying to see what had caused the light. <em>Something magical, no doubt</em>.</p><p>He stared into the epicenter of where the light came from, trying to focus his eyes. In it, he saw a form. A shape slowly grew out of the bright light. It was tall and strange, but as it grew nearer, it became more familiar.</p><p>It was a woman, on a horse.</p><p>Once she was close enough and the light had died down, he could make her out more clearly, though he could not see her face with her hood pulled up. She wore white robes over a white flowing dress and she rode atop a white horse that had-</p><p>He took a step back.</p><p>
  <em>No. It can’t be.</em>
</p><p>He quickly got back his bearings and stood, raising his sword. Woman or no, this was clearly the work of magic, and that was certainly no horse.</p><p>The sorceress merely smiled at him, as if upon a child. He sneered, not backing down.</p><p>“Arthur Pendragon,” she spoke, but he did not see her mouth move. Her voice was soothing, like a whisper or a cool stream of water running through a fresh wound. He would not let her tricks get to him, though. This was a trap of some sort. <em>Obviously</em>.</p><p>He tried shouting for his men, but then remembered that he’d come here alone. Wait, where was <em>here</em> again? As he looked around, he noticed that his tent was gone and all the tents he’d seen earlier were gone, too. He was surrounded by trees and grass and bushes, no person in sight.</p><p>“Arthur Pendragon,” she spoke once more. “You seek the one who is destined. Your heart longs for knowledge.”</p><p>“Who are you? Where is everyone gone?”</p><p>“Do not fret. I am merely a messenger. Your hosts are safe. But not here.”</p><p>
  <em>What the hell does that mean?</em>
</p><p>“We cannot waste any time. Please, follow me.”</p><p>“And why should I do that?”</p><p>“Because I will show you what you yearn to know.”</p><p>“Oh? And what’s the price of this information?” he asked warily. He knew that when it came to magic, there was always a price; it was tricky like that.</p><p>She smiled at him, a knowing smile. She looked amused. He didn’t like this, didn’t like feeling so out of his field. Clearly, this was her domain.</p><p>“You are correct, this is my domain. However, I cannot keep you here long. Please come.”</p><p>“Not until you tell me the price I’ll pay.”</p><p>“You’ll pay nothing.”</p><p>And that was that, she turned and rode away, not bothering to see if Arthur would follow. He ran after her, not able to stop his own curiosity.</p><p>He wondered if he’ll have to walk, but a horse, an actual horse, turned up from nowhere. He got up on it and rode after the strange woman.</p><p>As he sidled up next to her, the trees started to change. They, and everything else, blurred. He knew it was magic, but he couldn’t help wondering what exactly was happening. The horse and unicorn were moving at a steady pace. Nothing to indicate how they appeared to be traveling so quickly.</p><p>The blurring finally stopped, as abrupt as the appearance of the woman had been.</p><p>Arthur tried not to throw up the cheese, ham, and bread he ate for dinner.</p><p>Instead of the middle of the woods, they were now at the entrance of them, on top of a hill which sloped down gently towards a valley in which a small village was situated.</p><p>It seemed odd that the sky was bright, no longer night, but he could not find the sun, either. Perhaps it was cloudy, it was difficult to tell; everything looked sharp at times and completely hazy at others, like he was suffering a headache.</p><p>The world shifted around them, people bustling around the village, livestock grazing or running about. It looked simple and peaceful and he felt a longing for it. For a second, he could see another life, another him, unburdened by a kingdom and a crown.</p><p>But that was not meant to be and he knew not even the most powerful sorcerers could make his dream come true; he’d have to ask the gods, but he could never quite get himself to do it. He was where he needed to be, something told him.</p><p>He turned to the woman. She was watching the village below, but she wasn’t looking around. Her gaze was steady, eyes following someone specific.</p><p>He tried to follow her line of sight and came upon a young man. He thought it was a young man, but they were far away, so it was hard to make out any details. He had dark hair, Arthur could tell, and wore a simple tunic, trousers, and boots. He was carrying a bucket, presumably filled with water.</p><p>“Why have you brought me here?” he asked. Though his gut told him it had to do with the boy.</p><p>“To show you. You asked after Emrys.”</p><p>“Emrys. He’s real? The druids said he was a myth.”</p><p>“He’s been long awaited and humans have poor patience. They live such short lives, they want everything to happen quickly.”</p><p>She turned to him, then. “But yes, he is real.”</p><p>“That boy…” he trailed off, not wanting to finish his question. Or was he about to make a statement? He wasn’t sure.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“But. But he’s just a farm boy!”</p><p>“What does it matter?” she asked, truly baffled.</p><p>“You’re telling me that <em>that</em> skinny little village farm boy is the most powerful sorcerer to ever live? Supposedly.”</p><p>“Yes. He is the prophesied.”</p><p>“And how do you know this?”</p><p>“I felt it, when he came into this world.”</p><p>“You felt it,” he repeated, tone flat.</p><p>She raised a brow at him.</p><p>“Magic,” he muttered with a defeated sigh.</p><p>“Magic,” she agreed.</p><p>He looked back on the village. The boy had gone into his house, but now he was running off with another lad, his mother shouting at him from the door.</p><p>“Why him? Why not a nobleman or king?”</p><p>“Because there already is a king.”</p><p>Arthur wanted to sigh. Was magic always so frustrating?</p><p>“Yes, I <em>know</em>. But what is the point of having it be two separate people when it could all be one?”</p><p>“Because the world requires balance. Such is the nature of power, that no one man can have it all.”</p><p>Arthur supposed that made some sense; after all, being the most powerful sorcerer ever was already quite a bit to handle, he imagined. Being a monarch on top of it, well…anyone would lose their minds. A regular peasant boy would not grow up in a palace, surrounded by doting strangers who constantly vied for attention through elaborate compliments and gaudy gifts. He wouldn’t have people stooping low, bending over backwards, to get his favor.</p><p>He would grow up knowing the most basics of life, instilled with a humble nature instead of an arrogant one. <em>Like me.</em></p><p>“But what is to stop him from taking over? Once he grows and becomes so powerful, who’s to stop him from simply taking the crown from the king?”</p><p>“If such a thing happens, then there will be no balance and the world will fall further into chaos. Destiny is one thing, but it cannot fully control those bound by it. Humans, after all, still have their free will. He was given power, but what he chooses to do with it is up to him.”</p><p>“Doesn’t that frighten you?”</p><p>“Why should it? I will not be the one to suffer the consequences.”</p><p>Arthur looked at her and although he could not see the expression beneath her hood, her voice was impassive and uncaring. She watched the village from atop the hill like an apathetic god watched the goings on below the heavens but never bothered interfering.</p><p>He shuddered, to think the human race so abandoned.</p><p>“We placed our faith in Emrys,” she suddenly said. “As your people place their faith in you. Emrys and you both have choices to make, choices which will alter this world. You have been granted great powers, too. I beg you not misuse them.”</p><p>She sounded a little less apathetic now, a bit more amused. And there was something sharp there, too, in her tone. He felt he better listen.</p><p>There was movement beside him and he saw the woman turn her steed back.</p><p>“Come. I have shown you. You have received what was owed.”</p><p>Arthur’s brows came down. He wasn’t sure what the sorceress meant, exactly. She’d said some confusing things, but been mostly coherent. Which is more than he could ask for, he supposed, coming from a sorceress.</p><p>The land shifted once more and he was back at the empty space where the camp had been. He climbed off the horse and looked back, but the woman was gone.</p><p>“Wake up, my king,” he heard a voice coming at once from a distance and right next to his ear, like a whisper.</p><p>His eyes shot open, greeted with the morning sun.</p><p>“Sire?” someone asked. He blinked a few times, trying to get his bearings. A blur swam into focus, the colors slowly coming together to form a face.</p><p>Ælfheah’s concern was obvious in his set brows and wide eyes. When Arthur sat up, he noticed he was in the middle of camp, lying on the forest floor. He felt many eyes on him, curious to see what he was doing sleeping outside his tent, no doubt.</p><p>Arthur waved a hand absently at Ælfheah. “I’m fine. Just. Sleepwalking, probably.”</p><p>The man seemed skeptical, but accepted Arthur’s explanation and did not further question him.</p><p>He had sleepwalked before, so it wasn’t impossible, but it happened when he was a child. And even then, it was a rare occurrence.</p><p>Then, as though an arrow had pierced his skull, he remembered the strange dream.</p><p>
  <em>That was no dream. </em>
</p><p>With a pinched smile, Arthur made way to his own tent and went through the motions of clearing his things and preparing to ride out. His body worked while his mind wandered back to that hill, watching the boy with the bucket of water.    </p><p> </p><p>When he reached Camelot, it was afternoon.</p><p>Arthur made the very wise decision of keeping his strange dream to himself; Morgana’s dreams were only getting worse and he didn’t want his father to think he was suffering the same affliction. Besides, he couldn’t qualify his dream as a nightmare, like Morgana’s always seemed to be. This was more akin to a vision and therefore something like magic.</p><p>And therefore, his father could not know.</p><p>Instead, he simply told his father what the druid man had told him. After Uther was done shouting and scolding him, that is. The minor act of treason had been worth it in the end; he could instantly see Uther easing. He sat a little less straight and his eyes lost some of their sharpness.</p><p>He was convinced now that all this had been just a bother, borne out of superstition.</p><p>There was no threat.</p><p>But Arthur knew differently. He couldn’t tell his father about this, yet. There was no way he could make him listen with no proof. Even if he did manage to convince his father, it wouldn’t accomplish much beyond a pointless search of every village for a dark-haired young man.</p><p>And that would be very unproductive, as far as Arthur could tell. He didn’t even know if this village was in Camelot.</p><p>He hated lying to his father, but it wouldn’t be forever. For now, he would need to silently gather more information, something concrete to bring to his king. This wasn’t lying so much as omitting what he knew until further notice.</p><p>“You did well, Arthur,” father finally said. “Although, you did defy my orders.”</p><p>Arthur bowed his head. “I know and I did so willingly. I will take whatever punishment my lord sees fit.”</p><p>He remained bowed until he heard a chuckle. He looked up to see the amusement dancing in his father’s eyes.</p><p>“Your punishment…Yes. Let’s see, you were gone about three days. So, for three days you will act as Lord Geoffrey’s assistant. Whatever he asks of you, you will do without question.”</p><p>Arthur’s eyes widened a bit, but he quickly tempered his expression. He’d been expecting house arrest or even a night in the dungeons. It certainly would’ve been preferable to this fresh hell.</p><p>Still, he could not do anything about it and going by the look on his father’s face, he knew exactly how Arthur felt about this punishment. <em>Father knows me too well. </em></p><p>He went back to his chambers and life resumed. Well, apart from those days spent in the dreary library, reading and writing and organizing old texts and documents. <em>It’d felt more like an entire decade than three days. </em>Arthur had returned to his bedchamber that night, exhausted and feeling older than his own father. When he’d went to the basin to wash up he feared for a second that he would be greeted with a wrinkled and bearded visage. But when he glimpsed himself in the water, he was relieved to see himself as he always was. His hair was as blonde as ever, no grey in sight.</p><p>The strange dream hadn’t come that night or any other night. It stuck in his mind during the day for a while, clinging like the plague, but his duties as prince put it on the back shelf.</p><p>He gave it no more thought in the coming days.</p>
<hr/><p>Merlin flinched, but tried to hide it.</p><p>He went about his work as usual, trying to get it all done as fast as possible so he could horse around with Will.</p><p>But still, the burning sensation stuck on his neck. He felt like a rabbit, waiting for a predator to jump out and get him.</p><p>Someone was watching him, he knew it instantly. His magic stirred in him, like a lazy cat waking up. And then, it began roiling like an angry sea, pleading to spill out. He kept it in tight as he walked back to his house.</p><p>Still, he couldn’t stop his eyes from automatically looking in the direction of his watcher.</p><p>But when he looked up the hill into the trees, he saw nothing, apart from the usual. There was no one there.</p><p>He narrowed his eyes, thinking perhaps he’d been mistaken, but…</p><p>
  <em>Magic never lies.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Fool</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The Fool - Major Arcana</p>
<p>Upright: Beginnings, innocence, spontaneity, a free spirit.<br/>Reversed: Holding back, recklessness, risk-taking.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arthur had naively believed that his father’s fury would temper after he brought back his new information, but he should’ve known by now that when it came to magic there was no soothing King Uther. At least, not for long. He calmed after the realization he was only chasing a story, but the need to lay blame took hold of him soon after. He had been put on a fruitless pursuit by a sorcerer and more will pay the price.</p>
<p>More than that, he believed they had faith and he couldn’t allow such beliefs to grow. His mania only increased, his fervor ever more present. </p>
<p>They’d caught another sorcerer. Apparently someone saw him enchant the feed for his chickens so they grew fatter.</p>
<p>Truly a terrifying act.</p>
<p>He could hear the people cheering on as his father gave another speech about the evils of sorcery and how they are victorious yet again or some such.</p>
<p>Father made it out to be like the man had planned the king’s death. Still, he could do nothing; not even Morgana could get through to him. No amount of tears could move Uther, not on this matter.</p>
<p>Arthur, instead, chose to avoid the executions altogether. He didn’t do it openly and boldly, no. He would invent some excuse, some training exercise or an injury or a patrol he needed to go on immediately. It didn’t always work, but he was grateful when it did. He tried to tell himself he wasn’t doing it due to fear. <em>I am not craven.</em> But he heard the lie.</p>
<p>He could not face the reality of watching another person die, not ever knowing fully if they were an innocent or not. Their trials rarely lasted long and the times Arthur could not get away from an execution, he ended up thinking about it for days. His mind would wander, pondering the what-ifs, trying to soothe himself with the fact that <em>this was a sorcerer, after all.</em> <em>It was their own choices that led them here.</em></p>
<p>His father was only ridding the kingdom of evil. He understood why his father did what he did; he’d seen the evils of sorcery himself, he’d seen how lowly people fell when they got a taste of its power.</p>
<p>But what if the person burning or hanging had been a normal person, simply caught up in someone else’s fear or revenge?</p>
<p>And even if they had been practicing magic, he could not fathom the killing of a man who just wanted to get more coin for his troubles. But then, perhaps that’s how it all started, with a simple desire for more. And when the temptation grew too great, it was already too late for salvation.</p>
<p>Perhaps his father was right.</p>
<p>Perhaps this was a necessary cruelty, like the slaughter of animals for food. <em>But these are not animals. They’re our subjects, our people.</em></p>
<p>This is how he’d spent that day, somber and contemplative, trying once more to puzzle out where exactly his mind resided on the matter.</p>
<p>He needn’t ask to know what Morgana thought about all this; it was writ on her face as plain as the sun in the sky.</p>
<p>Their dinner together was a silent affair. The table was stacked with all sorts of foods: chicken and goose and pies and cakes. But Morgana did not seem to take much interest in it; her plate was almost empty and what she did eat, she did so in small amounts, her knife cutting quickly through the meat. She said nothing, her face was an impassive mask, but her entire manner of being was made entirely of irritation.</p>
<p>Her rage was boiling, he knew, just somewhere underneath.</p>
<p>The silence had stretched on, a tense and waiting thing. All his father’s attempts to engage Morgana had been brutally battered away. Morgana was a castle that could not be sieged. </p>
<p>This was not a unique state of things. In fact, in the past few months, they were nearly constant. Morgana and Uther had always come to blows over one thing or another. They shared a certain stubborn quality that not even Arthur possessed. They were both so assured in themselves and their convictions; truth be told, Arthur more than once felt a sting of jealousy at their ability to so fully trust themselves when he himself spent so many of his days in doubt.</p>
<p>He'd wondered if such a state of total belief in oneself brought a peace of mind with it, but seeing the scene before him, he thought perhaps not.</p>
<p>The silence was seemingly done waiting; Uther had run out of patience. </p>
<p>“Morgana, we discussed this,” he said plainly, perhaps with a little exasperation.</p>
<p>“Yes, I remember. Is there a reason you’re reminding me?”</p>
<p>“Because you clearly have something to say. And -”</p>
<p>“Do I? I’ve been quite silent, I believe,” she cut him off. If Arthur had done so, he knew he would get a tongue lashing, but Uther simply continued on as if he hadn’t heard her.</p>
<p>“And I’m wondering what it could be, since we’ve seemingly given each other all the words we wanted to.”</p>
<p>Morgana looked up at him, her eyes burning brighter than any pyre Arthur had ever seen. He was thankful, in that moment, that her gaze wasn’t on him. The fact his father managed to hold it and not wither made Arthur respect his father just a bit more.</p>
<p>“Your mouth has been silent, that it true, but not your mind.”</p>
<p>“Can you read my mind now, then?” Morgana asked, tone dry as the wine they’d been sipping to stave off the silence. “Perhaps we should try <em>you</em> for sorcery.”</p>
<p>If her intention was to rile Uther, they failed. His face was impassive.</p>
<p> “Of course I cannot. But I see it. Something troubles you.”</p>
<p>“You know damn well what troubles me, <em>Sire</em>,” she replied sharply, the honorific sounding more an insult than a sign of respect.</p>
<p>“And as I’ve said, we’ve discussed this. Many times, already. You know why I do it.”</p>
<p> “Oh yes, I know,” she said with a grin. Unlike her usual smiles and smirks, this was a horrible thing, angry and sly.</p>
<p>Father’s fist tensed, his eyes narrowed, but he showed no other change in his demeanor.</p>
<p>“I know and that’s exactly why I can’t give you my support.”</p>
<p>“A king does not require your <em>support</em> in carrying out justice,” father replied, tone cold but even.</p>
<p>Morgana sighed. She looked so weary all of a sudden, like she was older than Arthur and Uther combined.</p>
<p>“So why are we discussing this? You have made your stance clear and I’ve made mine. I do not wish to speak; there’s not much point speaking to a castle wall.”</p>
<p>Arthur was glad he wasn’t drinking anything in that moment. He saw his father’s face grow stormy, his knuckles turn white.</p>
<p>If it had been Arthur who’d spoken like that, he would’ve ended up in the cells overnight.</p>
<p>“The man was a sorcerer! What would you have me do? Ignore it?”</p>
<p>“He was just a farmer, using what means he could. He doesn’t have the privilege of a castle and a host of cooks to keep him fed!”</p>
<p>“That doesn’t mean he should’ve resorted to sorcery! He knew full well the laws of this land and yet he still went against his better judgement and practiced that dark art. And you think he would’ve stopped with the chickens? What’s to prevent him from using magic to poison other farmers’ feed? He would be driven mad by the power, poisoned until <em>he</em> was no longer, only a shadow left in his place. His death was a mercy!”</p>
<p>“A mercy?! How could it be mercy to slaughter a man as though he were cattle?”</p>
<p>“It is a mercy to him, for he will no longer suffer the corrupting force of magic. And no one else has to suffer his folly, either.”</p>
<p>“No one has to suffer, you say. And what of his mother? Her heart is grieving and hungry for vengeance. She will be back and she <em>will</em> hurt Arthur. And you have no one to blame but yourself.”</p>
<p>She got up then, done with her food and the conversation. Father simply watched her leave, not bothering with any more words. They always tried to verbally duel one another to have the last word, but Uther knew how to pick his battles. And going by his pale face, what Morgana said struck some kind of chord.</p>
<p>Arthur decided he could no longer linger here. Their dining hall was grand, but the tension had stifled it, making it feel as though he were in a cupboard. He excused himself, his father barely giving him a glance as he walked away from the hall and the fight.</p>
<p>As he made his way to his room, he could not help but think of the execution. He hadn’t even witnessed it and yet, he could not escape it. No matter what he did, they would always haunt him. The only way to truly escape them would be to run away from Camelot, but he could not abandon his duties.</p>
<p>Perhaps he shouldn’t skip them anymore. Perhaps he should stand and witness justice being carried out. He’d been a coward, running away from them. He told himself he was uncomfortable with them, tried to tell himself that the people were innocent, but his father’s words rang out in his mind. They made their choice, they went against the law of the land.</p>
<p>They should suffer the consequences as any other.</p>
<p>The fight hung over his head the next day like the executioner’s axe. Arthur decided, after all that had transpired, he deserved to unwind a bit. He couldn’t use the usual methods of men, as he was the prince and could not dishonor his father.</p>
<p>With no tavern to go to and no girls to mess about with, swinging his sword around was the next best thing. He enjoyed training, but the dull clanging of swords soon became a rhythm, a background noise. And his thoughts, which he’d wanted to hold back, came rushing to the fore once more. </p>
<p>Soon, the activity quickly lost its use and he needed to come up with something new to occupy him.</p>
<p>His brilliant idea was to practice with a moving target. He got his manservant, whatever-his-name, to pick up a wooden shield and run back and forth while Arthur threw daggers at it. It was certainly a lot more entertaining than his spar had been.</p>
<p>The lad couldn’t keep at it for long, which was annoying, but not unexpected. Arthur kept throwing his daggers, each making a loud thump as they embedded themselves into the wood of the shield. Laughter suddenly bubbled up from somewhere deep and the other knights soon joined in, clearly finding the whole ordeal amusing.</p>
<p>It’s not long before the boy’s meagre strength loses out and the shield is dropped. The servant boy tripped and fell, the shield rolling away only to be stopped by a booted stranger. Arthur’s eyes rove up from the boot to the top, meeting a set of blue eyes. At least, he thinks they’re blue; hard to tell from how far he’s standing. He’s suddenly stricken, but he doesn’t know why.</p>
<p>
  <em>There’s something about this boy…</em>
</p>
<p>“Hey. Come on, that’s enough,” the boy says, his mouth smiling, but his tone holding a warning.</p>
<p>Arthur looks to him in disbelief. <em>Who does he think he is?</em></p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“You’ve had your fun, my friend.”</p>
<p>“Do I know you?” Arthur asked as he walked towards the boy. His tone was sarcastic, but there was a part of him that genuinely wondered if he did. There was something about him that nudged at the back of Arthur’s mind. He tried to recall where he could’ve seen him. Perhaps he was a servant? Is that why he seemed so familiar? His features were distinct enough that Arthur doubted he would’ve easily forgotten him. And Arthur tended to be good with faces, if not with names.</p>
<p>And yet he was sure, deep in his bones, that he’d never actually come across him. At least, not in the waking world.</p>
<p>“Ah, I’m Merlin,” the boy said, holding out his hand to shake.</p>
<p><em>Merlin. </em>That name didn’t ring any bells, but another one whispered through his mind. He schooled his features, trying to keep aloof.</p>
<p>“So, I don’t know you,” Arthur replied. <em>I don’t know you. But I think I saw you in a dream, once. </em>He kept his snort to himself and tried to keep the heat of his blush down. He wondered, if he said that aloud, what the reaction would be. He imagined the comment would not be well received, though there was nothing lewd about it.</p>
<p>Was this the village boy called Emrys who is the greatest sorcerer to ever live?</p>
<p>Arthur wanted to laugh.</p>
<p>There was no way it was him; he’d given an entirely different name. <em>Unless he’s lying.</em></p>
<p>There was no way to be sure and he never got a good enough look in the dream; he’d been too far away to notice any details. For now, he only had an inkling of a suspicion. He needed to keep an eye on the boy, but just how was he supposed to accomplish that?</p>
<p>“No. I suppose you don’t,” the boy finally replied.</p>
<p>“And yet, you call me ‘friend’.”</p>
<p>“That was my mistake.”</p>
<p>“Yes, I think so.”</p>
<p>“I’d never have a friend who could be such an ass.” The comment came as a surprise and it was, perhaps, a little funny. What was funnier to Arthur, however, was the boy’s completely obvious obliviousness as to who Arthur was. <em>He must be new to Camelot, freshly arrived,  if he could not recognize its prince. Or know not to mouth off to a knight.</em></p>
<p>“Or I one who could be so stupid.” The boy, barely paying him any more mind, had turned to walk away. He was clearly quite finished with Arthur, and true to his apparent insolent nature, did not grasp that it was Arthur who did the dismissing. However, any education on proper etiquette could surely wait; Arthur couldn’t have Merlin running off, not when he needed to know more.</p>
<p>“Tell me, <em>Mer</em>lin, do you know how to walk on your knees?”</p>
<p>The boy turned and looked at him. His face was in a battle to try and settle on an expression. Arthur wanted to curse himself. He wasn’t intending to make his question sound like that, but clearly it did not land the way he’d expected, if Merlin’s final expression were anything to go by.</p>
<p>“Nope,” he replied, clearly trying to appear casual.</p>
<p>“Would you like me to help you?” Arthur asked and this time he hoped the threat was more clear.</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t if I were you.” This gave Arthur pause. Of course, it was funny that some skinny little twerp would say that to a knight. Surely this Merlin knew he couldn’t take Arthur on. He must’ve been bluffing. But the look in his eye told another story.</p>
<p>He was completely serious, but more than that, he was confident in his ability to take Arthur down. He must be completely delusional. There was no way he could win a fight with Arthur. Not unless…</p>
<p>
  <em>Unless he has magic.</em>
</p>
<p>But surely he wouldn’t be foolish enough to use it here, in front of everyone?</p>
<p>“Why? What are you gonna do to me?” Arthur asked, his voice filled with laughter, completely unbothered.</p>
<p>“You have no idea.”</p>
<p>Arthur, of course, finds all this very funny. The boy clearly couldn’t win fighting physically and any show of magic would end in his execution. Either way, Arthur wins. It simply wasn’t worth it for Merlin to show him up. Surely he wouldn’t risk it?</p>
<p>“Be my guest! Come on. Come on! Come ooon,” he taunts. Arthur couldn’t pretend he wasn’t curious to see what the boy had in store. Perhaps he was secretly skilled, hiding his strength behind his lanky figure. Big muscles weren’t a necessity to make a good fighter, after all. But then, he was just a simple peasant; he had nowhere to learn any sort of martial art.</p>
<p>Surprisingly, and yet unsurprisingly, the boy throws a punch. Or rather, he attempts to throw a punch, one that never manages to get far, let alone land on Arthur. He grabs the meager fist and twists Merlin’s arm behind his back. He does this all singlehandedly which he doesn’t take much pride in because Merlin isn’t exactly a fearsome opponent.</p>
<p>
  <em>Well, at least he didn’t use magic.</em>
</p>
<p>“I’ll have you thrown in jail for that.” He doesn’t really want to, but he must show that one cannot threaten the prince. And, perhaps, he does feel <em>slightly</em> miffed that the boy had so easily disregarded his authority. It doesn’t mean he wants him to be thrown in a cell.</p>
<p>Well. Maybe a <em>little</em>.</p>
<p>“Who do you think you are, the king?” Merlin spits out.</p>
<p>Arthur almost laughs.</p>
<p>“No, I’m his son. Arthur.”</p>
<p>And that is how Arthur met Merlin. The guards took the boy away and presumably locked him away. He didn’t bother checking and his mind drifted to other things. There was a feast, after all. Some lady was to perform.</p>
<p>He didn’t have much time or energy to think of Merlin and Emrys.</p>
<p>But of course, as Arthur would later learn, once Merlin crashed his way into someone’s life, you couldn’t very easily be rid of him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In his true vexing nature, Merlin turned up just the next day, strolling in the Lower Town. In a sea of faces, his truly stood out.</p>
<p>The boy was trying desperately not to draw attention to himself, eyes down, pretending he couldn’t see the prince walking right past him.</p>
<p>Arthur thought he would be gracious and leave the boy alone; after all, he’d had his punishment. What would be the point? And yet, he couldn’t just let him be. He didn’t know what it was, if it was some juvenile thing or simple curiosity, but he called out to him.</p>
<p>“How’s the knee-walking coming along?” It wasn’t the most mature thing to say, but Arthur could see in the tensing of his shoulders that the comment got to Merlin. Still, he kept walking, doing his best to ignore Arthur and presumably act as “the bigger man”.</p>
<p>Well, the fastest way to kill such attempts is with simple and childish taunts. It always got to Arthur and he had a feeling they would work just as well on Merlin.</p>
<p>“Aw, don’t run away.” That got him. Merlin was stupid, but he was no coward and he wouldn’t take that sort of insult. Arthur could understand that, at least.</p>
<p>“From you?” he asked, but didn’t turn to face him.</p>
<p>“Ah, thank god. I thought you were deaf as well as dumb.”</p>
<p>“Look, I’ve told you you’re an ass,” Merlin said. He turned to Arthur, smirk on his face. “I just didn’t realize you were a royal one.”</p>
<p>Arthur could admit, it wasn’t bad as far as comebacks go. But Merlin wasn’t done.</p>
<p>“Oh, what are you gonna do?” he asked with mock concern. “Get your daddy’s men to protect you?”</p>
<p>Arthur had to laugh. Merlin really had nerve, he would give him that.</p>
<p>“I could take you apart with one blow.”</p>
<p>“I could take you apart with less than that.”</p>
<p>“Are you sure?”</p>
<p>Arthur was doubtful. He’d seen Merlin “in action” as it were and it wasn’t much to write home about. For all intents and purposes, Merlin was just a scrawny village boy who was stupid enough to pick fights he couldn’t win.</p>
<p>And yet, there was a certain confidence in him when he spoke those words to Arthur, like he really believed he could win were it a fair fight. But what would be a fair fight in Merlin’s eyes?</p>
<p>Merlin proceeded to take off his jacket, which was unexpected and all the more funnier for it.</p>
<p>“Here you go, big man,” Arthur said as he tossed a mace flail at Merlin (who failed to catch it. Of course).</p>
<p>Arthur grabbed one himself. This should even the odds, shouldn’t it? Though…</p>
<p>“I warn you, I’ve been trained to kill since birth.” He swung the flail over his head. Not necessary, he knows, but it’s good to put on a show. For the crowd. And the knights.</p>
<p>“Wow. And how long have you been training to be a prat?”</p>
<p>Look at him; he’s got a prince and knights standing before him, said prince bearing a flail, and yet he talks with no ounce of respect. The boy clearly can’t fight and yet he keeps going on as though the fight has been fought and won.</p>
<p>Really, he either had no survival instinct or he had the confidence the size of a mountain. If it was confidence, it was largely misplaced.</p>
<p>“You can’t address me like that.”</p>
<p>“Sorry. How long have you been training to be a prat, my lord?” Merlin asked with a slight bow and a smirk. He looked up at Arthur, eyes filled with mischief.</p>
<p>So that’s what this was. Merlin was just a rascal who was a glutton for trouble. That was the only valid explanation as far as Arthur could see.</p>
<p>Arthur played along, but quickly swung out to get Merlin out of sorts. He missed as the boy was clearly better at ducking punches than he was giving them. He ran back, away from Arthur’s reach, putting some distance between them. <em>First smart thing he’s done so far.</em></p>
<p>“Come on then, Merlin,” he taunted. “Come on.”</p>
<p>He kept slowly advancing as the boy kept walking backwards. He was keeping his eye on Arthur which would be fine in an open space, but they weren’t in an open space. They were in a market filled with all sorts of things lying about and Merlin wasn’t looking behind where he was going. So of course he managed to walk into a stall and got his mace stuck. <em>Not so smart.</em></p>
<p>Arthur was close enough to land a blow, but Merlin skirted out of the way just in time, his ducking skills once again proving useful. However, it left him maceless and, therefore, unevenly matched. <em>Not that it was even in the first place. I’d have to have a broken arm and sprained ankles for him to have a fighting chance.</em></p>
<p>Arthur did not let up. He went after Merlin like he would any of his knights. If the boy wanted a fight, he’d give him a fight.</p>
<p>
  <em>Though I did sort of start it. </em>
</p>
<p>Eh, now is not the time for introspection. Now is the time to win this fight and show Merlin –</p>
<p>Show him what? That he can’t be rude to him? Well, it does all sound a bit silly now, doesn’t it. But, he isn’t supposed to be doing any introspecting, he’s supposed to be fighting. Why isn’t he fighting? Merlin is lying right there, it’d be so easy…</p>
<p>“You’re in trouble now,” he tells him. Merlin is rightly distressed, muttering an “Oh God”. Arthur is in no rush now, so he swings the mace a bit, but when he goes to strike, the mace does not follow. He tugs and notices his mace is stuck, wrapped around some sickles. Arthur isn’t proud, but in his defense he learned to fight on a battlefield, not in a marketplace.</p>
<p>Merlin takes advantage of Arthur’s failure and runs off, though not too far. He keeps his eye on Arthur, refusing to show his back. <em>Maybe the lad has some survival instincts after all.</em></p>
<p>With mace freed, Arthur continues his pursuit, mace swinging and eye on Merlin. The boy looks down and Arthur thinks this is his chance before he steps on an empty wooden crate. It’s small, small enough that the weight of his foot lifts it, hitting him in the shin.</p>
<p>He can’t hold back his shout of pain, but it doesn’t deter him. In fact, seeing Merlin’s smirking face urges him on. It’d been a stupid game at first, but now he really wants to win. He would do anything to wipe that sodding smirk off that sodding face.</p>
<p>So, with renewed vigor, he runs after Merlin, but he’s not paying enough attention, because he trips over something and falls like a right tit, losing his mace.</p>
<p>When he gets up, he’s faced with a mace-wielding Merlin.</p>
<p>“Do you want to give up?” Merlin shouts.</p>
<p>“To you?” Arthur asks, incredulous. Arthur never gives up, and especially not to snots like Merlin.</p>
<p>“Do you? Do you want to give up?”</p>
<p>Arthur backs away and falls! Again! Thankfully, Merlin gets distracted <em>again</em> (really, what a fool) and Arthur presses his advantage with a handy broom. Not the most noble of weapons and certainly not one a knight would use, but it does the job of beating Merlin to the ground (which he proceeds to sweep).</p>
<p>The guards are there, ready to set up another date between Merlin and a jail cell, but Arthur orders them to let the boy go.</p>
<p>Annoying snot though he may be, it was Arthur who provoked him this time.</p>
<p>“He may be an idiot, but he’s a brave one.” Merlin watches him, face unreadable as Arthur approaches.</p>
<p>“There’s something about you, Merlin. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”</p>
<p>Merlin gifts Arthur’s honesty with a wary look. <em>He’s hiding something</em>. Arthur knows he must be. He doesn’t know if it’s what Arthur thinks it is, but regardless, he is intrigued.</p>
<p>He will have his eye on the boy, of that there is no doubt.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Merlin’s mum had always taught him to keep his head down, to hide. He did it pretty well all things considered, but clearly not well enough. His differences became more stark as his powers grew more powerful and therefore more unstable. His village with so few people, who all knew one another, had grown too small for Merlin; it could no longer contain all he was.</p>
<p>He thought a big place like Camelot would be easier to hide in, but it seemed the world did not allow him that peace of mind.</p>
<p>The sight that greeted him first once he entered the citadel had been an execution of a sorcerer. It was his first lesson in Camelot - though the place may be large, and you can easily hide in a crowd, you are never safe from wandering eyes. Especially when there are so many more eyes to wander. The King had no need for a secret watch when the citizenry of Camelot was just as eager to tattle on their neighbors.</p>
<p>And all it would take was one person to witness an extraordinary act being performed. Just one person with an accusation and you land on the pyre or the noose. Or, as Merlin had witnessed on his first day, on the axe man’s stump. The King would listen, no matter how ridiculous the story. </p>
<p>Sometimes there wasn’t even a credible story, just two people having a quarrel over something they think is important. Something important enough to accuse another of witchcraft.</p>
<p>Yes, Camelot is large and it’s easy to hide in a crowd, that much is true. And yes, it would be deadly to be caught out in the act. Merlin knew the dangers but he was confident he could keep his head down.</p>
<p>The confidence was short-lived.</p>
<p>Luckily for Merlin, the first person to witness his magic in Camelot had been none other than Gaius, whom he’d saved from falling to his death. Merlin was rather proud of that, but he knew if it had been anyone other than Gaius, gratitude would not have saved him.</p>
<p>Gaius told him, rather pointlessly, that he is not to practice magic in Camelot. Well, at least not where there were prying eyes. For all his lecturing, however, Gaius did seem quite taken with Merlin’s ability, asking numerous questions in an attempt to satisfy his curiosity.</p>
<p>Merlin had to disappoint.</p>
<p>He really did not know why he was the way he was. He also could not say how it is he could do magic without study or uttering spells. Apparently, even in the magical community he was an anomaly.</p>
<p>Currently, his job was to assist Gaius when he could and learn to control his magic. His life was meant to be simple and one of a thousand others in the city. He would walk down the street as any other, simply existing as Merlin and not as Freak or Weirdo or some other things he’s been called before that he’d rather not mention.</p>
<p>But Merlin, despite all the warnings, managed to get himself a target painted on his back and the one shooting at it was none other than the prince of Camelot himself. Merlin, a sorcerer, was now known to the son of the man who routinely executed people like Merlin because they healed a wound or made their chicken lay more eggs or some such rubbish.</p>
<p>Gaius wasn’t all too pleased with him either, giving him The Brow and a handful of lectures. Merlin remembers them vaguely, something about how he wouldn’t be able to protect him and there was a limited amount of things he could do here without risking the wrath of Uther. “So you best keep your head down, boy.” At least he managed to get Merlin out of the dungeon cell. <em>And right into the stocks. But I got a meeting with Gwen out of it, so that must count for something.</em></p>
<p>Merlin felt he wasn’t at all to blame. After all, in the first case he was defending a poor servant and he hadn’t been aware he was insulting the prince. The second time the prat himself goaded Merlin into a fight. Though Merlin supposes it was his fault for falling for such a childish taunt. (He hadn’t escaped reprimand then, either. Gaius made sure to point out how his skill requires responsibility and study and all that.)</p>
<p>But what is the point of it all? He can’t help but to wonder if coming to Camelot was such a good idea. In Ealdor, he always had the forest to escape to. He could run off, be amongst the trees and animals. He could surround himself with the spirits and magical things that dwelled there. He could be himself in peace, without anyone to judge him by it, to use it as it was meant to be, freely and naturally. He could have this respite, for a short time, but a breath is still a breath and even a small one can keep someone going.</p>
<p>He's beginning to fear he will suffocate here. If he could not use his magic freely, if he always had to hold back a part of himself, then who could he be? Will he go on living life as a pretend-Merlin? A shade of himself, living yet not? His magic is who he is, what he always was, from the very beginning. Cutting it off like that, one might as well ask him to drop dead.</p>
<p>Perhaps he should run away, live in the woods he likes so much. He could build a little cabin, bathe in the river, and commune with the spirits that come out to play.</p>
<p>But he knows he could not do it. He has things, and people, he cares for. And despite all its short-comings, he does like Camelot. Some rebellious part of him revels in a magical being living at the heart of it. Running away, he knows, would not solve anything. It would help him get some peace of mind, but the horrors of Uther’s regime will continue on.</p>
<p>Running away would be the cowards way out. And Merlin was no coward.</p>
<p>So, he decided he will stay and see where life takes him.</p>
<p>So far, it took him to that dratted prince, the annoying bully with a big ego and stupid smirk.</p>
<p>On top of that, Merlin was sure the prat knew something. Or, at least, suspected.</p>
<p>And that was not very good. The prince knew how Merlin looked and knew his name. If Merlin wasn’t careful, he might just end up with his head on a spike sooner rather than later. If he manages to survive even a month in this godforsaken city it will be an act of magic like Merlin has never seen.</p>
<p>Of course, if all <em>that</em> wasn’t enough, he was hearing things now, too. He swore he heard a voice calling out to him while he slept. He thought it was a dream at first, but then he heard it still when he awoke. He’d heard it when he was in the cell, coming from somewhere far below. But then Gaius came in and it was gone.</p>
<p>He heard it now, too, calling louder and louder until he could no longer ignore it. His eyes sprang open to the dark room. This was getting, quite frankly, annoying.</p>
<p>So, like any curious-minded adventurer, he decided to find out where the voice was coming from. Clearly it was magical, since only he heard it. Or perhaps he was going mad. One or the other, really.</p>
<p>He got dressed and quietly crept out of his room. It was dead of night and Gaius was asleep, letting out quiet snores. Merlin really didn’t want to trouble the man, so he decided he would have to be extra careful while he snuck around the castle; he couldn’t well keep relying on Gaius to get him out of a cell.</p>
<p>Or the stocks. He really didn’t enjoy those and, hopefully, he’d never have the pleasure of keeping them company again.</p>
<p>Knowing his luck, he doubted it.</p>
<p>Walking down the halls of the castle at night was different. In the day, the white stone shone bright. But now the halls seemed menacing, the corners shadowed and potentially hiding something dangerous.</p>
<p>The only light was the one from the lit torches, their fires dancing and taunting, as if saying, “We are here, now, but we can go at any moment and you will be in darkness.”</p>
<p>Luckily, Merlin has magic and can make his own light. Unluckily, magic is illegal. If he’s caught out after curfew, he’s in trouble. If he’s caught out after curfew <em>and</em> performing magic? He’s dead.</p>
<p>There weren’t too many guards and Merlin decided to take advantage of those previously terrifying dark corners to hide himself in shadow whenever a patrol passed by.</p>
<p>The voice did not pause. It beckoned him onward and as Merlin made his way through the citadel it only grew clearer and firmer. It had been loud before, but muffled by distance.</p>
<p>Something Merlin noticed only too late was that the voice was very steadily leading him down. Down a hall and down the stairs. Down another hall and then another stairs and so on and so forth. He had to wonder just how deep the castle went.</p>
<p>Another thing that grew clear, even in the dark, was the state of the castle. As he walked further away from the Physician’s quarters and closer to the voice, he noticed dirt and dust, and eventually, disrepair. This wasn’t where people commonly tread. No one lived here.</p>
<p>And yet, someone clearly did, if they were calling for him.</p>
<p>His stomach twisted and he froze, a sickness rising in him. What if it was a person, stuck somewhere far below? What if it was some sort of sorcerer that Uther kept as prisoner?</p>
<p>Why would he bother doing that, though? Perhaps to make a statement? Merlin had never heard of any sorcerers living beneath the castle, though. Surely a thing like that would be common knowledge by now.</p>
<p>He reached a strange opening that was locked with iron bars. He picked the lock easy and went in. The voice had stopped calling him now, but he knew this was the right place. For the life of him he could not imagine why a castle such as Camelot would house such a thing underneath it.</p>
<p>The farther Merlin crept, the more he realized he was in a cave. There was water dripping somewhere, the rocky walls were wet, and ahead he saw rocks hanging from a ceiling so high he could not see its end. Or perhaps it was simply due to the dark.</p>
<p>Taking a few deep breaths of the damp air, Merlin called out, “Hello? Is anyone there?”</p>
<p>It was quiet for a few moments. He held his breath.</p>
<p>Then, as though from somewhere very far away, he heard the sound of cloth flapping in the wind, like laundry. Except this blanket must be quite large to make so much noise. Perhaps it was a tarp.</p>
<p>There was a thump, somewhere from in front of him, just beyond the ledge. A scratching noise, scrabbling for purchase on the wet rock.</p>
<p>Gold pierced the darkness and in that golden circle Merlin could see a slit, like that of a snake’s eye.</p>
<p>He immediately scrambled back, trying to run without turning his back, but his legs didn’t seem to work as they normally would and he ended up sliding down onto his arse. At least his back was to the wall and he was faced with whatever this was. Though it meant little, since he could barely see in the darkness.</p>
<p>His breaths were coming quick now, the torch he’d been carrying lost now, flame snuffed out.</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>I’m</em>
  </strong>
  <em> about to be snuffed out! What the hell is Uther doing keeping a giant lizard underneath the castle?!</em>
</p>
<p>Maybe he didn’t know? Maybe this strange thing has been living here since before Uther was even born.</p>
<p>“Me,” a deep and growling voice said. It wasn’t loud, but it echoed in the cavernous space, making the sound come from all sides. The last echo sounded like a mere whisper, like the one he heard in his mind. Still, the whisper wasn’t any less terrifying than a shout would’ve been.</p>
<p>“You’re – You. <em>What</em> are you?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. He was surprised he managed to get anything out.</p>
<p>“Hm, strange. Do all humans ask each other <em>what</em> they are before <em>who</em> they are? Is it a custom? Or are you just being rude?” It leaned down, it’s long neck allowing it to get closer to Merlin and peer at him with one of his great gold snake eyes.</p>
<p>“Oh! Uh. Sorry,” he replied with a cringe. He supposes being rude right now could end up in him getting chewed up by gigantic teeth. “I’m Merlin,” he offered.</p>
<p>“I know,” it replied with amusement lacing its tone. It was hard to read the reptilian face and the dark was certainly no help.</p>
<p>
  <em>So, it knows my name before I even tell it. This bodes well for me.</em>
</p>
<p>“Right. And yours?”</p>
<p>“Not telling.”</p>
<p>“Wh – no! You can’t just call me out for being rude and then not tell me your name!”</p>
<p>“I can and I did. My name will not be known to you for some time. You will know, when you must know.”</p>
<p>“What the hell does that mean?”</p>
<p>“That is not important now. I have a message for you.”</p>
<p>“Alright.” Merlin was hesitant, but he would receive this message, whatever it was. It must be of value, after all, what could be more important than knowing the name of a great big talking beast living underneath the castle he lived in?</p>
<p>“You must stay here, protect the King.”</p>
<p>
  <em>What.</em>
</p>
<p>“The King? <em>The</em> King?! The one who mercilessly slaughters anyone he vaguely suspects of magic? People like me? Why would I do a thing like that? Why would you ask me to guard a tyrant?”</p>
<p>“I do not speak of Uther,” it calmly replied.</p>
<p>“Then who? There is no other king here!”</p>
<p>“No, but there will be.”</p>
<p>Merlin’s eyes widened.</p>
<p>“Oh, I see. You’re talking about that utter arse, Prince Arthur.”</p>
<p>“I – yes, I suppose I am.”</p>
<p>“And why would I <em>want</em> to protect him? He’s no better than Uther! He’s a bully and an inconsiderate toad!”</p>
<p>“You and he have a destiny. Your lives are intertwined. No matter what time, what reality, you two shall always meet. And you can never undo that which has been done, that which has been foretold.”</p>
<p>“So, what, I have no free will? I’m not allowed to make my own decisions?”</p>
<p>“You can make whatever decisions you please. But whichever you choose, all roads lead to Rome, as they say.”</p>
<p>Merlin groaned. </p>
<p>
  <em>Great.</em>
</p>
<p>“So if I left Camelot now, I would still end up running into him, no matter what?”</p>
<p>“That is what destiny desires, yes. But it can only bring you to him. Whatever you choose to do next is up to you.”</p>
<p>“What if I choose to murder him?”</p>
<p>“Then I imagine he will die, if you’re successful.”</p>
<p>“And then what? What happens to destiny?”</p>
<p>“I do not know.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Great! </em>
</p>
<p>“I am weary. Our conversation has been enlightening, I’m sure. Goodbye for now, Merlin.” It spread its giant wings and swung them down. The beast rose, chain rattling, and flew up to hide somewhere in a cranny near the ceiling.</p>
<p>“Wait!” Merlin called out after it. “Come back! I still have more questions!”</p>
<p>There was no reply save for the silence of the cave.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next morning, Merlin woke to Gaius complaining about his room, then demanding he go get him herbs and make a delivery to the Lady Morgana. She requires some kind of potion to help her sleep, since she suffers from nightmares, which Merlin can very well relate to. According to Gwen, who is the lady’s maid, Morgana is the king’s ward. He doesn’t know much more than that as he hasn’t actually met her, though Gwen made sure to tell him she’s quite beautiful. Would be hard to miss, he supposes.</p>
<p>While he made his way to find the lady’s chambers, he thought about his own nightmare. He was half convinced the dragon had all been something he conjured up on his own. Maybe it was stress? Perhaps he was having some sort of break down?</p>
<p>
  <em>You’re not delusional, young warlock. At least, not about this.</em>
</p>
<p>He nearly dropped the bottle when the dragon’s voice rang out in his mind. He was sure the old lizard was laughing at him.</p>
<p>When he finally found the room and made his way through the doorway, the lady was already turning away, but Merlin caught a glimpse and it was enough to confirm Gwen’s claim.</p>
<p>Long, black hair ran down to her waist, in soft waves. She wore a blue satin dress, fitted to her form.</p>
<p>She began speaking, clearly sensing someone else in the room.</p>
<p>“You know, I’ve been thinking about Arthur,” she said, walking toward her privacy screen. “I wouldn’t touch him with a lance pole.” Merlin almost snorted. Whoever this lady is, she clearly has her head screwed on right. He was just about to say as much, when she continued on.</p>
<p>“Would you pass me that dress, Gwen?”</p>
<p>He stills, holding himself in place as he realizes that he is in a room with a noblewoman, who is currently changing, who is under the impression that Merlin is in fact her maid.</p>
<p>He supposes there is an easy fix for this, but Merlin is an idiot, so instead of trying to fix the honest mistake by introducing himself or simply walking away, he instead grabs the dress lying on the chaise and brings it to her.</p>
<p>“The man’s a total jester. Why would I accompany him to the feast? Because I’m the king’s ward? I’m under no obligation. Right?”</p>
<p>He hands her the dress, crouching down a bit so he couldn’t be seen over the screen (he was quite tall, after all).</p>
<p>“Right?” she repeats and Merlin has to quickly go back and replay all she said in his own head. He manages to give a little “mhmm”, pitching his voice a bit so he sounds vaguely feminine and hoping it does the job.</p>
<p>“If he wants me to go, he should invite me. Take some initiative instead of taking the cowards way out and relying on decorum. I don’t go in for that sort of thing, as you may well know.”</p>
<p>No, Merlin doesn’t know.</p>
<p>“Well, he hasn’t invited me, so you know what that means? It means I’m going by myself.”</p>
<p>He thinks that’s a good idea, but he can’t very well say that.</p>
<p>And then Morgana starts to walk again, out from behind the screen.</p>
<p>She’s still talking, but Merlin could barely pay it any attention through his panic. He hadn’t meant to walk in on her changing; that’s what he gets for not knocking first, he supposes.</p>
<p>He holds up a dress to his face, trying to cover himself, hoping she’d somehow miss that he was not Gwen.</p>
<p>“You’re not Gwen,” he heard from behind the dress.</p>
<p>“Um,” he tried pitching his voice up, gods know why. It didn’t work.</p>
<p> “<em>Who</em> the <em>hell</em> are you?” she asked. He slowly put the dress down and was met with wide and indignant green eyes. She seemed ready to throw the first thing within reach should he make even the slightest of wrong moves.</p>
<p>“Uh. I - I’m the assistant. Physician’s.” <em>Gods, I’m stupid.</em></p>
<p>Morgana raised a brow, arms folding across her chest. She looked less like a riled cat now, her mood smoothing over into something that might’ve been amusement.</p>
<p>“I see. And does this assistant have a name, perhaps?”</p>
<p>“Merlin!” Well, at least he managed to get his name out. <em>But no, that was not my voice.</em></p>
<p>Lady Morgana took her eyes off him, looking beyond his shoulder to whom he guessed was Gwen, the serving girl he met while being pelted with rotten vegetables. He turned and sure enough, there she was, smiling brightly at him as though he were the reason the sun shone.</p>
<p>“You know this boy?” Morgana asked, her voice cooling down significantly. Apparently Gwen knowing him was enough to get out of Lady Morgana’s bad favour.</p>
<p>“Yes. I mean, sort of? We met only recently, seeing as Merlin is new here. Oh, but he’s not a bad sort!”</p>
<p>“‘Not a bad sort’? Then do you mind explaining to me what exactly it is he’s doing hanging around a lady’s chambers while she’s changing her clothes?”</p>
<p>Gwen’s face heated up instantly. Her eyes were wide and questioning. She bit her lip mercilessly as she tried desperately to come up with some good excuse for him. <em>At least she didn’t think poorly of me.</em></p>
<p>He turned back to Morgana, putting on his I’m-a-simple-and-innocent-country-boy smile, and explained, “I was delivering the sleeping draughts. Gaius said you needed them. For nightmares?”</p>
<p>Morgana’s face lit up in recognition, then clouded over again immediately. She gave a weary and unhappy sigh.</p>
<p>“Yes, unfortunately. There’s naught to be done about them besides take these draughts and hope they work. Though they’ve been lacking as of late.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure Gaius prepared them properly, but I could let him know…” he was quick to defend. If he was the royal physician, surely he was no fool? And he was already committing great treason by keeping Merlin’s secret; he could not let Gaius’s reputation be besmirched.</p>
<p>“Oh no! I’m not casting any aspersions on Gaius! I just meant they aren’t working as well as they used to. I’m afraid they’ll stop working completely eventually. And it is hardly Gaius to blame for this. The fault is most likely my own.”</p>
<p>Her eyes were cast down, her fingers gripping her arms. Whatever Merlin might’ve thought before, it was clear to him now that these nightmares took a toll on the lady. He wondered if there was something he could do; he’d need to talk to Gaius first, however.</p>
<p>“But that is no matter now,” she said suddenly, breaking the silence. “I’ve just realized we hadn’t been introduced properly.” And just like that, her dour mood was gone, replaced with friendly cheer. He wondered how much of it was truth and how much an act.</p>
<p>Gwen jumped at the chance. “Merlin, this is the Lady Morgana. Lady Morgana, you’ve met Merlin. And I’m Guinevere, of course.”</p>
<p>Merlin smiled at her, charmed.</p>
<p>Morgana spared her own smile at Gwen. It was soft, as soft as her eyes. She looked almost as though she were compelled to be charmed by her maid, like she simply could not help it.</p>
<p>“Well, as much as I enjoyed this meeting, I still have some things to gather for Gaius and make a few deliveries. You’d be surprised the things people here require.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that. But I suppose we can always exchange gossip, if you’re up for it? You show me yours, I show you mine?” The look Morgana was shooting him was deadly, filled with dark amusement. He knew he was being teased, but she was a lady, and a pretty one at that. He’s only grateful that Gwen was so shy; it made it easier to talk to her and not feel intimidated as he did with the lady. If Gwen had teased him as such, he’d be tripping over his own feet every day.</p>
<p>Merlin felt his ears burn.</p>
<p>“I. Um. Yes! I wouldn’t mind that. The gossip, I meant,” he blathered out, walking steadily backwards to where he hoped the door was. He hit something solid, but it felt like wood, so he counted himself lucky.</p>
<p>“I’ll see you around, I suppose. Bye!” he shouted and turned, hit the door, opened the door, then ran out without looking back. He imagined there were giggles following him, but he ignored that. He was simply grateful he’d made it out alive.</p>
<p>He stopped running eventually, having run out of embarrassment. He took a while to calm his racing heart and found the nearest guard to ask for directions to the Lady Helen’s rooms. Gaius told him she’s a legendary singer and she would be performing at tonight’s feast. Apparently, being a singer required keeping your voice hale. It is like an instrument, he supposed; one had to always take care of it if one wanted it to work right.</p>
<p>Her rooms were empty. Well, they were empty of her personhood, but certainly not her things. It was messier than even his own, if one could believe it. Were there no servants to come clean here?</p>
<p>Feeling slightly unnerved, he chose not to linger. Merlin walked over to the vanity and set down the potion next to the vase filled with fresh flowers, but something else caught his eye. Hidden amongst the things, he saw a little straw doll, carefully crafted in the image of a human. Perhaps the lady had a child? He did not hear anyone say. Underneath a shawl he saw the edge of a tome peaking out. Curiosity stricken, he could not help but pull it out. It, too, was carefully crafted, made of leather pressed into intricate designs and bound by twine.</p>
<p>He wanted to undo the bindings and see what lie beneath, but he heard someone approaching, and cursing his bad luck, put the book away as he found it.</p>
<p>A woman wearing a brilliant purple dress came into the room. She was older, perhaps old enough to be his mother, but her skin wasn’t worn away the way a peasants might be. Instead, it had the mark of delicate creams and time spent indoors, probably singing to all manner of lords and kings.</p>
<p>She watched him warily, her eyes clearly suspicious. Or perhaps she was simply displeased to find some random boy rummaging through her things. Either way.</p>
<p>
  <em>I offend one lady only to then cross another. </em>
</p>
<p>She said nothing, clearly waiting for an explanation. He fumbled a bit, trying to get over his sheepishness at being caught out snooping.</p>
<p>“I’ve brought you your tonic. Potion? For your voice, Gaius said.”</p>
<p>She nodded in recognition, her face losing some of its suspicion. He turned to the vanity and grabbed the bottle, pushing it into the lady’s hands. She took it and smiled up at him.</p>
<p>“Sorry,” he felt the need to say. He was sure she hadn’t saw him rummage through her things, but the guilt wouldn’t leave until he said the word. “I didn’t mean to linger, but I didn’t want to just leave it here with no explanation. Felt rude, I suppose.” Well, it’s as good as an excuse as any, he supposes.</p>
<p>“It’s quite alright. I was just a bit startled. I’ve had some…bad experiences before.” Her voice was soft and melodic and her eyes were softer now.</p>
<p>“Oh, I understand. I guess I could’ve just waited outside. I’m new here, still learning, I suppose.”</p>
<p>“It’s no bother. Now, I really must get ready.” It was barely midday and the feast is to be at sundown, but he supposed a lady needed a lot of time to put on those fancy dresses and make up her hair.</p>
<p>“Of course, I’ll leave you to it.” He turned to leave, walking past her. But, in the last moment, he paused at the door, curiosity making itself known once again. It was so sudden, he could not ignore it.</p>
<p>“Um, pardon, but I’ve a question.”</p>
<p>“Yes?”</p>
<p>“Do you have a child, by any chance?”</p>
<p>She looked taken aback, completely thrown by the question, but she recovered quickly and pasted on a brittle smile.</p>
<p>“Why do you ask?” There was suspicion in her voice and in her eyes something indescribable.</p>
<p>“I dunno. Curious, I suppose.”</p>
<p>“I do. Did. A son.”</p>
<p>“Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”</p>
<p> “It’s alright. I’m moving on.”</p>
<p>“Well. That’s good. I mean, it isn’t good, but I’m glad you’re feeling better? Sorry, I’ll just go now.”</p>
<p>He turned quickly, ready to bolt. He was out of the room and in the hall, but he still heard the woman say, “You’ve a good heart, Merlin.”</p>
<p>It wasn’t until he reached Gaius’s chambers that he realized he’d never told her his name.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The hall was grand, certainly grander than anything Merlin has ever seen. It was filled to the brim with lord and ladies and knights. Their talk filled the space, laughter spilling out here and there. The servants were relegated to running about with plates full of meats, cheeses, and fruits. He thought it was a bit unfair, but the thought didn’t last long as he was too busy getting distracted by all the fancy clothes and sparkling jewelry.</p>
<p>He’d never seen such finery so up-close and in such quantity.</p>
<p>The sun was down and it should’ve left them all in total darkness, but the candles held aloft in the chandeliers and the torches on the walls kept the place well-lit. It was warm and everything was soft gold.</p>
<p>Such a strange place and yet Merlin couldn’t help but feel right at home, here in this fancy place.</p>
<p>But, for all the finery and grandness of the hall, it could not compete with the sight that greeted him when he turned to the entrance. The hall immediately hushed as they, too, took in the Lady Morgana make her way in.</p>
<p>She was wearing a dress one could safely describe as “unorthodox”. It showed more skin than Merlin thought was usual, but he felt Morgana could get away with such a thing. On her head was a thin circlet and on her red lips was a charming smile.</p>
<p>As she walked by, she turned to him and gave him a wink. Unless he imagined that.</p>
<p>“Close your mouth, boy, or you’ll be catching all the flies that will inevitably make their homes in the fruit bowls.”</p>
<p>Merlin shut his mouth with an audible <em>click</em> and he saw Gaius give an amused huff. Really, could he blame Merlin? It’s not like he’d ever seen such a pretty girl in his village. He gave the old man an irritated look, but whatever he wanted to say got thrown out when he heard, “She really is quite beautiful,” from behind him.</p>
<p>He did not startle or jump or flinch.</p>
<p>He turned away from Gaius to look at Gwen, but her gaze was ahead, fixed on Morgana. She was biting her lip in the way she did when she was worried or excited.</p>
<p>He turned to look as well and saw that Morgana had made her way toward Arthur and his friends.</p>
<p>What was Gwen so bothered by? She was only speaking to Arthur and he looked like he’d bit into a lemon. Clearly she’d said something teasing and he couldn’t react publicly or he’d end up looking like a numpty. Morgana had a smile, but this one looked false, like she was purposely trying to showcase her disregard for being civil without doing so in an outwardly unacceptable manner.</p>
<p>Was Gwen worried they would fight? They didn’t look overly heated, just appeared to be sniping at each other in a casual manner, as though they’d done so plenty times before.</p>
<p>“Well, she certainly looks even more beautiful standing next to Arthur,” he finally said. His eyes glanced to the side and saw Gwen snort. She put a hand to her mouth, looking a mix of displeased at herself for having made such a noise and amused at Merlin.</p>
<p>“Oh come off it, Merlin.”</p>
<p>He raised a brow at her, arms crossed.</p>
<p>“I know hasn’t got the most pleasant of personalities, but you can’t deny he’s easy on the eyes.”</p>
<p>“Is he? I dunno. Think he’s a bit weird-looking.”</p>
<p>Gwen gasped.</p>
<p>“He is not!”</p>
<p>Perhaps no one had ever dared insult the prince in such a manner before (apart from Lady Morgana) and she was surprised? Maybe she was offended at him poking fun at her tastes? Or the more likely option: Gwen had a crush on Arthur, but it’s quite unfortunate and so she’s too embarrassed to admit to it.</p>
<p>
  <em>Shit. Was I being mean? I didn’t mean to be rude! </em>
</p>
<p>He turned away from her to look back at Arthur, who was pointedly looking at him. Lady Morgana had turned to them as well, her eyes wistful and longing. She was probably tired of speaking to the prat and wanted to go back to Gwen. From what he’d gathered, they were pretty close, as close as maids and their ladies could be.</p>
<p>“I suppose…” he began, “he’s not all bad.” Arthur was too far to really make out any details, but he remembered his face from when they fought. “He’s got alright hair. His face has an acceptable shape.”</p>
<p>Gwen hit his arm, lightly. “Alright, alright. I get it. You’re a boy.”</p>
<p>“So what if I’m a boy?”</p>
<p> “<em>So</em> you don’t see it, but he is handsome. “</p>
<p>“Says who?”</p>
<p>“Perhaps the ladies tittering over there.” She looked over to said ladies and could see them giggling and whispering to themselves. Their eyes roamed over Arthur, in a fashion that was barely decent in this setting. Or any setting, really.</p>
<p><em>Vultures</em>. That’s all he could think to describe them.</p>
<p>“What do they know? They probably like him because he’s the prince. They can’t be objective.”</p>
<p>“No one can be <em>objective</em>. Beauty <em>is</em> in the eye of the beholder, after all.”</p>
<p>“Hm. Well, I’m not beholding much beauty.”</p>
<p>Gwen snorted and let out a small laugh, unable to hold it back this time. “You’re such a rascal, Merlin.”</p>
<p>He gasped, putting a hand to his chest in an overly dramatic manner. His eyes were wide, innocent but hurt.</p>
<p>“Well I never! A rascal! Me?”</p>
<p>“Who else?” he heard, but it hadn’t come from Gwen and the voice was much deeper. He didn’t bother holding in a sigh.</p>
<p>“Arthur.”</p>
<p>“<em>Mer</em>lin. I’m sure you’re quite aware of my station by now.”</p>
<p>“So?”</p>
<p>“So I expect you to address me properly.”</p>
<p>“Apologies, your pratliness.”</p>
<p>“I’ve never before met a man so covetous for the stocks.”</p>
<p>“I’ve never before met a man so covetous for insults.”</p>
<p>They stood in silence, watching each other. Gwen glanced between them, lip bitten and hands wringing nervously.</p>
<p>They were at an impasse. Arthur seemed to grasp it, so he left the whole conversation behind and started over again.</p>
<p>“I see you’ve recovered.” He looked Merlin up and down as he said this, assessing yet slightly insulting. Merlin couldn’t help but be slightly impressed.</p>
<p>“Recovered?” he asked, feigning confusion.</p>
<p>“From our fight.”</p>
<p>Merlin snorted. “Hardly a fight.”</p>
<p>“I’d agree with you there,” Arthur said and Merlin could see him barely holding back an infuriating smirk, made all the more infuriating by it being hidden.</p>
<p>“Yes, a trained knight going up against a servant? You’ve truly proven your might.” As he spoke he saw Arthur’s cheeks flush.</p>
<p>“You’re the one who started it!” His voice was a tad too loud as all eyes leapt towards them. Arthur cleared his throat and tried to appear aloof, like he hadn’t just yelled like a child.</p>
<p>Merlin shrugged. “You started it the second time. And the second time is the current topic of discussion, which <em>you</em> started. Again.”</p>
<p>Merlin could see the gnashing of teeth, the clenching of fists. Arthur’s eyes were blue fire.</p>
<p>“But, to answer your question, I have recovered just fine. As I said, it wasn’t much of a fight. Should maybe put more effort into it next time.”</p>
<p>“Oh, that’s rich,” Arthur replied wryly with a roll of his eyes. “I could hardly demonstrate my skills when you were so busy running away.”</p>
<p>“I wasn’t running! I was just…taking a tactical retreat.”</p>
<p>Arthur snorted.</p>
<p>“Well, it worked out fine for me. Managed to keep you at bay.”</p>
<p>“But I still got you in the end.”</p>
<p>“But you almost didn’t. For a second there it looked like <em>I</em> was going to win.”</p>
<p>“It was just luck.”</p>
<p>“On my part or yours?”</p>
<p>Merlin could see the effort it took Arthur not to show his own amusement and subsequent surprise at having been amused in the first place.</p>
<p>“On your part, clearly. I had been going easy on you.”</p>
<p>“Oh, is that what you call it?”</p>
<p>“Beg pardon?”</p>
<p>“Well, it’s just. You were tripping up a bit there. Over crates and such. Can’t blame me for harboring some doubts regarding your, er, ‘skills’.”</p>
<p>“Hang on! I was taught to fight in battle, on an open field or during a siege, not a marketplace!”</p>
<p> Out the corner of Merlin’s eye he saw the king make his entrance at the end of the hall. He’ll soon announce the feast and Merlin will have no time to speak with Arthur. If he wanted the last word, he’ll have to give it now.</p>
<p>“Then you should keep your sword polished, sire. Practice makes perfect, I hear. Helps with the stamina, too.”</p>
<p>He saw Arthur’s eyes widen, his mouth falling loose, the beginnings of an outraged cry forming. Whatever stupid and indignant thing the prince was going to say, he’ll never know. The entire hall hushed, as though by magic, upon seeing the king. He raised a hand and announced the feast, and finally sat at the head table.</p>
<p>Arthur had no choice but to shut up and leave. Morgana sprung out from nowhere to walk beside him as they both made it to their seats beside the king.</p>
<p>At his side, Gwen was holding a hand to her mouth, but he could see her eyes were smiling.</p>
<p>“You’re a bad man, Merlin,” she said.</p>
<p>He gives her the biggest most guileless smile he can while she shakes her head at him.</p>
<p>The hall clears away as everyone goes to their seats, ready for a feast to commence with the added entertainment.</p>
<p>“Now. Seated as you all are, it is my duty to introduce the legendary Lady Helen!”</p>
<p>With a wave of his hand the grand hall doors swung open to reveal the singer, dressed in a magnificent gown and hair styled in some complicated fashion. It looked quite impressive as she stalked down to the center of the hall, her heels clacking on the stone floor and echoing throughout. There wasn’t even a titter as everyone sat in anticipation of hearing the lady’s voice.</p>
<p>She stopped and curtsied before the king. He acknowledged her with a nod of his own. The band in the back began to play their instruments, the song a melancholy thing. Merlin was a bit taken aback by this as he’d assumed she’d sing something upbeat. But perhaps the nobles took their pleasures differently from the regular folk. This grand hall was no place for bawdy tavern songs.</p>
<p>And then, her voice broke out. He barely noticed it at first, it was so soft. He’d thought it was another instrument that began to play, but it was indeed the Lady Helen. Her notes matched with the tune, her voice just as somber as the band. Her eyes were drooping and if he were standing closer he might have seen them shine with tears.</p>
<p>She kept her eyes on the king, who was looking mighty pleased with her skill. Then her gaze turned to Morgana, who looked properly saddened, but fully engrossed in the song. And finally, her gaze came to rest on Arthur, who looked like he was barely managing to stay awake.</p>
<p>Merlin snorted. Of course the oaf takes no pleasure in the finer things; all <em>he</em> thinks about is bashing someone’s head in and swinging a sword around.</p>
<p>She began walking once again, eyes intent on Arthur, who’s eyes were properly closed now. How rude, Merlin thought as he felt his own eyes begin to droop. He looked to the king and Morgana and they, too, were falling to sleep.</p>
<p>Merlin quickly clapped his ears shut. With the singing muffled, he immediately felt awake. With his attention back, he now noticed how the whole room was dead asleep. Not only that, but it had become overwrought with webs and dust like no one had bothered cleaning the hall for over a hundred years. And it smelled like it, too. The stench of something dead and rotting filled the entire hall and Merlin had to keep his hands where they were lest he used one to cover his nose.</p>
<p>Whatever this woman had planned, it wasn’t good.</p>
<p>All he saw was a glint, a small hint of what was to come and it was enough to spur him into action.</p>
<p>He looked around, desperately searching for anything that could help him stop her. It didn’t have to be big or flashy, just enough to get her to stop getting close to Arthur. He didn’t even know any proper spells yet, so he’ll have to go with instinct.</p>
<p>Luckily, everyone was too asleep to notice him practicing magic so blatantly.</p>
<p>As she approached, Merlin noticed that right above her was a giant chandelier filled with burning candles. He hoped and prayed to all the gods that it wouldn’t start a fire and did the only thing he could.</p>
<p>He held out his arm, pointing to the chandelier and broke the chains holding the chandelier. It fell with a great crash, crushing the Lady Helen and ending her song quite unceremoniously. The chandelier was a great big wooden wheel and it clearly broke the woman’s body, but he could see she was still moving. It was all quite gruesome and undignified.</p>
<p>The candles, thankfully, did not burn down the hall; instead, the fire stopped burning, probably put out by the fall. Or maybe it was magic?</p>
<p>Whatever it had been, the point was that nothing caught fire and everyone was safe. And waking up, too, going by the confused sounds and movement.</p>
<p>Like bugs caught in a spiderweb, all the guests began to wriggle their way out of the cobwebs, coming to life and looking about themselves to try and gather what in the bloody hell just happened.</p>
<p>Merlin himself isn’t quite sure, but he thinks the Lady Helen is some kind of witch and placed everyone under her spell using her song with the intention of silently murdering the prince.</p>
<p>But why go for Arthur and not the king? It all seems rather dramatic, too. If she had the power to do something like this, why put on a show? Why not do it quietly, where no one would ever know?</p>
<p>As the guests woke up, so too did Uther, Arthur, and Morgana. They all had a similar look of displeasure on their faces and Merlin had to hold in a small burst of laughter. It seemed like they were dealing with a mild annoyance at best, rather than a serious magical attack.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, the witch began to stir, too, and Merlin could see she wasn’t actually Lady Helen, but an old woman, wrinkled and worn. Her hair was thin and grey and the dress that hugged her figure now hung off her frail frame. She looked up from where she lay, showing her yellow teeth as she snarled at them all.</p>
<p>“You,” the king suddenly said, “you’re that woman…”</p>
<p>“Yes,” she hissed out. “I am <em>that</em> woman. And you are <em>that</em> man who killed my son!” Her voice was filled with anguish and agony and rage. He could almost feel her violent emotions graze his skin and burrow somewhere underneath.</p>
<p>He shuddered.</p>
<p>“Guards!” the king shouted, but it was too late.</p>
<p>With the dying strength she still had, she flung out her knife, with an added burst of magic. It cut through the air and through space and time and Merlin could only watch as it approached Arthur with a deadly speed.</p>
<p>
  <em>I don’t have enough time. I won’t stop it.</em>
</p>
<p>He couldn’t stop the knife.</p>
<p>And he couldn’t make more time.</p>
<p>But, he could always slow it down. He’d done it plenty times before. It’s how he’d saved Gaius, after all.</p>
<p>So, pulling on that familiar thread, time slowed until everyone looked to be stopped. They were all statues, all frozen in some form of expression. Merlin felt like he was trapped inside a living painting, a small world of his own making.</p>
<p>But it would only get smaller as his magic ran out, so he rushed out, as quickly as he could, and pushed Arthur down from his chair.</p>
<p>Time, once again, flowed freely. The dam he built to keep it at bay had finally broken, but it was unimportant now.</p>
<p>He’d done it. He’d made it.</p>
<p>He gulped down air as though he feared it would run out, filling his lungs. His arms shook, though whether from exertion or adrenaline, he did not know.</p>
<p>He looked down at Arthur, sprawled beneath him, eyes wide. His breath, Merlin noticed, was not quite as rushed as his own.</p>
<p>
  <em>Has he even realized what almost happened? Or does he think me some sort of madman?</em>
</p>
<p>“Merlin?” he asked, tone slightly indignant though curious.</p>
<p>Merlin sighed and heaved himself up, Arthur promptly following him. The rest of the room seemed stupefied and unable to decide where to look.</p>
<p>Some stared at Merlin, while others looked at the haggard old woman crushed beneath the chandelier. The room was once again as it was at the start, clear of webs and degradation. It seems the old witch has died and her spell has finally left with her, leaving behind the hall and its guests as pristine as they ever were.</p>
<p>Merlin looked away from it all and stared at the knife wedged firmly into the wood of the chair Arthur had previously occupied. If Merlin hadn’t done anything, the man would’ve surely died.</p>
<p>Merlin wanted to be snarky, to tell himself he did the world a great disservice by saving Arthur, but he was too exhausted to muster any of that up. All he felt was relief at having saved someone.</p>
<p>It seems the king had noticed the knife, too, because he stood and looked at Merlin with such gratitude it almost hurt.</p>
<p>“You saved my son,” he said, voice filled with awe. “You must be rewarded.”</p>
<p>“Oh, no. That’s quite al-”</p>
<p>“You shall be Prince Arthur’s manservant! A distinguished position, if I do say. A worthy reward, do you not all agree?”</p>
<p>
  <em>What.</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Arthur made sure to put on a good show of it with a well-timed and indignant “Father!”. He made sure no one would have reason to doubt the act. Inside, he was brewing with a pleasant surprise at this unexpected turn of events. After all, what better way to keep an eye on the boy than having him act as manservant to the prince? <em>And here I was, fretting over trying to come up with something plausible when the perfect opportunity lands at my feet. Perhaps fate favours me.</em></p>
<p>He looked down at the knife embedded in the back of his chair.</p>
<p>
  <em>Though it does have a funny way of showing it.</em>
</p>
<p>Merlin’s opinion appeared to differ. Where Arthur was pleased, Merlin looked as if all the gods had abandoned him to a hellish fate worse than death itself.</p>
<p>Arthur was a little insulted, he could admit. And, perhaps, even a little impressed with himself for inspiring such a strong emotion in another person, even if that emotion was repulsion.</p>
<p>Merlin’s disgruntled look was quickly hidden; the boy clearly didn’t want to appear ungrateful in the presence of the king and all his noble guests. Hidden though it was, he still looked like he’d bitten into a lemon. And quick he was, but not quick enough for Arthur to miss. No one else seemed to notice, least of all his father, but no one had been paying as much attention to Merlin as Arthur. His father’s good mood didn’t seem to dampen, so instead of calling the whole thing off, he ordered for the feast to recommence after the witch had been promptly removed.</p>
<p>But once the king was turned away and everyone’s attentions back to their feast, Merlin shot Arthur a dirty look.</p>
<p>“Come now, <em>Mer</em>lin. You’ve just earned yourself a <em>very</em> prestigious spot in the household. Why so sour?” Arthur asked, putting an arm around the boy’s shoulders.</p>
<p>Merlin narrowed his eyes at him. “You seem rather pleased with this turn of events.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Well, he has a good eye. Maybe that’s why his name is Merlin.</em>
</p>
<p>“Of course I am. Seeing as the last sod quit, I really need someone to polish my armor and wash my clothes and change my bedsheets and -”</p>
<p>“Wipe your arse?” he asked under his breath, but Arthur heard it all the same. He felt his mouth twitch and his eyes narrow. He tried to keep the anger at bay with a smile, but judging by Merlin’s expression, his irritation managed to seep through regardless.</p>
<p>“No, I think I can handle that well on my own.”</p>
<p>“Well that’s a relief. Here I was, thinking the future ruler of the land needs to be looked after like a baby. Glad to know you can take care of yourself. And seeing as you can, in fact, take care of yourself, there really is no need-”</p>
<p>“<em>Mer</em>lin!” Arthur said with a fake joviality, patting him on the back a few times. Merlin stumbled a bit. “Are you, perhaps, <em>unappreciative</em> of your new role?”</p>
<p>“Unappreciative? No, never, <em>sire</em>. It’s just…well, I’ve got things to do and-”</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m well aware you’ve got <em>things to do</em>. After all, I’m the one who assigns these <em>things</em>.”</p>
<p>Merlin let out a deep and bone-weary sigh, like an old man who’s been to war a few times. It seems he’s past the bargaining stage, now steadily proceeding on to acceptance.</p>
<p>“Well, this has all been very fun, but I think I’m quite done for the night.” Arthur walked up to where his father was seated and excused himself.</p>
<p>“You don’t want to stay and enjoy the music?” Merlin asked, a wry twist on his lips.</p>
<p>“No, I think I’ve had enough of music for the time being.”</p>
<p>“Well, at least I won’t be forced to sing you any lullabies.”</p>
<p>Arthur snorted. “As if I’d want to hear that. Your singing could probably wake the dead.”</p>
<p>“So you’re saying my voice is magical?”</p>
<p>“No, I’m saying it’s terrible enough to make me never want to sleep again.”</p>
<p>“And how would you know? You’ve never heard me sing. Maybe I have the voice of an angel.”</p>
<p>“You? Voice of an angel? You talk too much rubbish for that.”</p>
<p>“<em>I</em> talk rubbish? Have you ever heard yourself speak? Well, of course you have, you love hearing the sound of your own voice.”</p>
<p>“Now that’s quite a bit of projecting you’re doing there, <em>Mer</em>lin.”</p>
<p>“Me? <em>I’m</em> projecting?” Merlin asked, voice incredulous. His question echoed in the empty halls.</p>
<p>“You seem to love the sound of your voice more than I ever could love mine. After all, your talking is the thing that got you into trouble in the first place,” Arthur replied, brow raised and a smirk tugging at his mouth.</p>
<p>“And my <em>action</em> is what got <em>you</em> out of it.”</p>
<p>“I’m not entirely sure I <em>am</em> out of it. You being my manservant seems like more trouble than I could ever want.”</p>
<p>“Would you prefer being dead? Because I’m sure we could find another angry sorceress to use you as a practice target. Must be plenty of those around here.”</p>
<p>Arthur was unsettled as to how accurate that probably was.</p>
<p>“I’ve not decided yet. I’ll see how you do and then make my decision. If I decide you’re terrible, you have my explicit permission to kill me.”</p>
<p>“Shall I inform the king of that?”</p>
<p>“I’ll tell him at breakfast.”</p>
<p>They reached his chamber doors, finally, and stood in silence for a moment.</p>
<p>Merlin turned to look at him, clearly expecting something.</p>
<p>“You’ll start tomorrow. You are to come and wake me and gather my breakfast. Then, after I am woken, you are to clothe me and tend to my every need as I need it. Is that understood?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“Don’t. Be. Late,” Arthur said, leaning in close to make sure the ignorant knob got it. Merlin leaned away.</p>
<p>“Yes, I got it. I’m not slow.”</p>
<p>Arthur’s mouth quirked up. The boy let out a sigh and simply said, “Don’t.”</p>
<p>“I wasn’t going to say anything.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I believe that. Goodnight, sire.”</p>
<p>With that, he turned and left without even waiting for Arthur to dismiss him. He shook his head.</p>
<p>“Goodnight,” he said to an empty hall.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this chapter is 13k words wtf fdjkdfkgjndfkjg</p>
<p>thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Five of Swords: Part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Five of Swords - Minor Arcana</p>
<p>Upright: Conflict, disagreements, competition, defeat, winning at all costs.<br/>Reversed: Reconciliation, making amends, past resentment.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Merlin’s life as Arthur’s manservant was never boring, at the very least.</p>
<p>But not being boring wasn’t exactly a point in its favor. For all that his life lacked in boredom, it made up for with tiring chores, an assortment of errands, having fruit thrown at him, and, of course, yelling. There was lots of yelling. Of his name specifically, though it wasn’t the “good kind”, as his friend Will would put it.</p>
<p>Merlin thought that that would be the end of it, but he should’ve known things would never resolve to be easy for him.</p>
<p>Arthur had dragged him out at the ass crack of dawn onto a field outside the city to <em>train</em>. The training, however, seemed to mainly consist of wailing on Merlin with various weapons while Merlin tried his best not to die. He’d fallen over many times and he was under the assumption that armor was supposed to provide some modicum of protection, but it only made it hurt more when he hit the ground.</p>
<p>“Come on Merlin, up and at ‘em.”</p>
<p>“Remind me again why we’re doing this?”</p>
<p>“Because, <em>Mer</em>lin, if you’d been paying any attention whatsoever, you would’ve known that Camelot is hosting a tournament.”</p>
<p>“A tournament? I’ve heard of those. It’s where a bunch of men hit each other with sticks, right?”</p>
<p>Arthur rolled his eyes. Merlin didn’t see it, as he was currently on the ground with a helm covering his face, but he could certainly feel it. Arthur, Merlin had observed, had the fascinating ability to project his annoyance outward so it could be felt by all. <em>Or maybe that’s just me?</em></p>
<p>“No, Merlin. It’s where knights prove their valor through combat. I don’t expect a country bumpkin like <em>you</em> to understand, but you <em>could</em> show a <em>bit</em> of respect.”</p>
<p>Merlin snorted.</p>
<p>“That’s what I thought,” Arthur said drily. Merlin sat up and took off his helm, then squinted up at the sky. The sun was up high, signaling the coming end of the morning. Merlin tried to get up, but his body had other thoughts.</p>
<p>“Ugh,” he groaned. “I won’t be able to move for a week.”</p>
<p>“Stop complaining. You sound like an old man.”</p>
<p>Merlin groaned again.</p>
<p>“You’ll be fine!” Arthur said, exasperated and commanding, as if he could force Merlin to be well simply through the power of will alone. <em>He could do that</em>, Merlin thought. <em>If he had magic, that is.</em></p>
<p>But, since he did not, Merlin remained a sad groaning heap on the ground.</p>
<p>“Arthur,” he said pitifully. “Go on. Go on ahead without me. Leave me here, to die with dignity.”</p>
<p>“I don’t think I can do that, since you don’t have much dignity to speak of. I’ll gladly leave you here to mope, though. I wouldn’t want such negative energies to pollute the castle and my chambers.”</p>
<p>“Negative. Energies,” Merlin said this slowly, like he was trying the words out, seeing how they felt and tasted. The words felt as foreign in his mouth and they felt coming out of Arthur’s; they clearly didn’t belong to him.</p>
<p>“Just something I heard Morgana talk about. Well, ‘talk about’ is being generous. She was making fun of Lady Ana. Apparently she heard from some learned man that one must clean their rooms by filling them with flower petals and candles. It’s meant to get rid of negative energies. Whatever that means.”</p>
<p>Merlin stared up at him.</p>
<p>“Sounds more like a fire hazard.”</p>
<p>“That’s what I said!” Arthur replied with more enthusiasm than Merlin has ever seen from him. He didn’t even know the prince was capable of anything other than sarcastic jibes and teasing.</p>
<p>He cleared his throat awkwardly, turning away from Merlin’s growing smirk. “Right. Come along then. We’re done for today.”</p>
<p>Merlin could see it was time to wrap up his whinging; he’ll have to inflict his grief upon Gaius next. He somehow managed to get up despite his aching muscles and the weight of the armor pulling him down. Arthur ordered him to pick everything up and follow him. Merlin struggled, to put it lightly, but somehow managed all the metal and shields (with no help from that sodding bastard) and ran after the prince.</p>
<p>Once they’d made it to the armory, Merlin was glad to drop everything. He heaved a deep breath, trying to discover how he’d made it all the way here without dropping dead.</p>
<p>Arthur moved towards him and proceeded to undo the straps holding the armor together. Merlin would’ve been startled, if he was capable of doing such a thing at the moment.</p>
<p>“Why couldn’t you train on the field? You know, with the rest of the knights? Who are knights and know how to fight, unlike <em>me</em>?”</p>
<p>“I can’t be going around showing them my skills now, can I?” Arthur asked in a low voice, brow raised.</p>
<p>“So you hide? A bit cowardly, isn’t it?” Merlin asked just to see Arthur bristle. Merlin was not disappointed.</p>
<p>“I’m not scared.”</p>
<p>“No?”</p>
<p>“No. I’m merely using every advantage possible to secure a victory. Something I’m sure you would know nothing about, seeing as you’ve never been to battle.”</p>
<p>“And you have?” Merlin asked, incredulous. He’d hoped Arthur would rise to the bait, but instead he remained quiet, not looking into Merlin’s eyes. <em>There’s a story here.</em> But for another time.</p>
<p>“As a matter of fact, I have,” he replied, tone neutral, deceptively so.</p>
<p>“Alright, but this isn’t a <em>real</em> battle. This is a mock-fight between two people.”</p>
<p>“True. But the principle still stands. You can’t show your hand to the enemy. And for this tournament, every opponent is an enemy. A false one, but an enemy nonetheless.”</p>
<p>Merlin hummed. “I suppose that makes sense. After all, if you can’t win fair and square…”</p>
<p>“I can very much win <em>fair and square</em>!” With that, the last piece of armor fell, metal on stone deafening the silent armory with a loud clanging sound.</p>
<p>“I suppose we’ll see,” Merlin replied with a smirk and before Arthur could give any order, Merlin rushed out, back to Gaius. He needed to wash up and he had bruises that needed tending. He supposed Arthur would just have to find him there, though Merlin preferred it if he didn’t.</p>
<p>He didn’t hear footsteps or the scraping of metal against metal following him.</p>
<p>No, what followed him was a resounding, “MERLIN!”</p>
<p>It did not sound forgiving, but Merlin could not be bothered by that now.</p>
<p>
  <em>I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Merlin sat, crushing some elderflower with a mortar and pestle.</p>
<p>Gaius had tended to him, rubbing ointments onto his bruises, and giving him some tea to drink (the tea was sweet and pleasant so it’s a good bet that it wasn’t medicinal). All the while, Merlin kept an eye out on the door. Every time someone passed the chamber, he would tense, ready to bolt for his room and hide underneath his bed.</p>
<p>However, none of the passerby have stopped in and the door remained faithfully closed until Gaius had to leave on his rounds in the Lower Town, leaving Merlin alone and undefended.</p>
<p>He ran around the chamber, doing various tasks such as cleaning and sorting and cutting leaves. Eventually, his nervous energy ran out and he needed to sit down.</p>
<p>The mindless task let him think and kept him busy and soon his thoughts were turned away from the prince. Instead, he thought about the chained dragon and Morgana’s strange dreams and Gwen’s funny castle stories.</p>
<p>The peace, of course, didn’t last. Right when Merlin was forgetting all about Prince Prat, the universe deigned to remind him. The gods had clearly decided that Merlin did not deserve peace of mind and calm pursuit of happiness as the man himself blew in like a storm to remind Merlin, inevitably and destructively, that he still existed.</p>
<p>The door swung open violently, crashing to the stone with a loud bang. Merlin actually jumped in his seat and dropped the mortar and pestle.</p>
<p>“Merlin! I know you may be <em>uneducated</em> on the proper etiquette of court, but <em>you</em> are my manservant and you shall act like one!”</p>
<p>And there it was, the lovely voice of his beloved prince, a shining star amidst the dark sky, a beacon that calls, rather violently, to all men and women of the realm. A gem –</p>
<p>“Are you listening to me?” Arthur enquired <em>very</em> gently, right in Merlin’s ear.</p>
<p>“Yes, sire. Always listening to you,” Merlin replied half-heartedly. Arthur clearly harbored doubts, but didn’t voice them. Instead, he seemed rather intent on letting out all that pent-up steam lest he start whistling like a boiling kettle.</p>
<p>“Well, then, if you <em>are</em> listening I would like to hear you repeat what I just said.”</p>
<p>“Why? Do you have a poor memory?”</p>
<p>Arthur’s features, which are so revered by all as comely, twisted into something less so, something that looked like outraged disbelief. Or is it shock? Incredulity?</p>
<p>“Does your impertinence know no bounds? Tell me, <em>Mer</em>lin, do you have <em>any</em> respect for those above your station?” he asks, eyes blown wide enough that Merlin fears they may just fall out.</p>
<p>“Above my station? Yes. You? Not quite.”</p>
<p>“Oh ho, <em>those</em> are some clever words! Might want to watch the next ones that come out of your mouth.”</p>
<p>Merlin decided to take his advice and said nothing. Arthur was silent as well, patient to hear what Merlin had to say. <em>This is it, I suppose. The nail in the coffin, so to speak.</em></p>
<p>He gave a big great sigh.</p>
<p>“I’m afraid I will make a very poor manservant. Wouldn’t want to be embarrassed at court, would you? With my, what did you call it? <em>Clever words</em>. I could say anything at the wrong time. Just look at how I’ve insulted you, who is Prince. Who knows who I’ll insult next?”</p>
<p>“Oh, you sly little - ” Whatever sly little thing Merlin was, he won’t ever find out. He’s cut off by a loud clearing of a throat and a disgruntled Gaius standing in the doorway, his eyebrow poised and as deadly as any sword.</p>
<p>“Can you two <em>please</em> keep it down? I could hear you down the hall with how you’re shouting.”</p>
<p>Were they shouting? Merlin hadn’t noticed his voice raise to shouting levels. Arthur was quite shouty already when he came in so no change had happened there.</p>
<p>“Now, I will be preparing some potions and tonics for tomorrow so if you insist on participating in whatever disagreement you are in, please have it <em>elsewhere</em>.”</p>
<p>That was Gaius’s very nice way of saying <em>fuck off</em>.</p>
<p>“Very well, then. Gaius, good evening. Merlin, with me.” Arthur turned and started walking to the door without a backwards glance.</p>
<p>
  <em>Evening. Was it evening already? The whole day passed by without my notice.</em>
</p>
<p>“Now!” he added when he didn’t hear the accompanying footsteps of one manservant.</p>
<p>Merlin groaned and tried to shoot a frustrated look towards Gaius but the man wasn’t paying him any attention; he was focused solely on his work.</p>
<p>Gods, he couldn’t even get one look of comradery and understanding!</p>
<p>He rushed off after Arthur, disappointed and weary. With no one there to share in his misery, he supposes he’ll have to settle on taking whatever Arthur will inevitably dish out on his own. And then, of course, he will devise some way to pay him back for all the prattish things he’ll surely say and order Merlin to do.</p>
<p>Once they reach Arthur’s chambers, the door shuts loudly, in a resounding way. It all seemed quite final, like waiting on the executioner’s block.</p>
<p>They stand in silence for a while. Merlin can feel Arthur’s eyes boring into him, but he refuses to look back. He knows he’s at some kind of limit and he doesn’t want to see what happens if he acts impertinent now. He imagines the outcome won’t be the one he desires (which is getting fired) and he will instead be made to endure some new tortures (chores).</p>
<p>“You should be <em>living</em> at the stocks, you know,” Arthur finally said.</p>
<p>Merlin decided this meant he could look now and when he did, he saw that the prat did not look as angry as Merlin had imagined. In fact, he seemed a bit amused. His expression was neutral, but his eyes could not hide their true feelings.</p>
<p>
  <em>Strange. But maybe I’m just seeing what I want to see. </em>
</p>
<p>“Does that mean I <em>won’t</em> be sent there?”</p>
<p>“Fortunately for <em>you</em>, yes.”</p>
<p>Merlin sighed, all tension melting away. Arthur snorted.</p>
<p>“The only reason I’m not doing so is because tomorrow there will be a feast for all the knights after the tourney is officially opened. I need someone to attend to me and I cannot have you moping around and complaining. I hope you will complete your duties well. Or as well as you can, I suppose.”</p>
<p>“And if I don’t?”</p>
<p>“Then I suppose I’ll just have to give you more things to do. Practice does make perfect, I hear.”</p>
<p>Merlin smiled. Arthur, it seemed, was quite keen to keep Merlin on as a servant. No matter what he did, the man never even bothered to use the threat of being fired. But perhaps that was only because such threats wouldn’t work on Merlin.</p>
<p>He wouldn’t lie that this didn’t unnerve him. Arthur had some blasted interest in Merlin and Merlin very much could not afford it. In the market, after they’d fought, he’d explicitly told Merlin that there was “something about” him. He was too close to this already; Merlin needed to find a way out and if Arthur wouldn’t fire him, he’d simply have to quit.</p>
<p>Except, he didn’t <em>want</em> to quit. Quitting felt like losing and he didn’t want to lose to <em>Arthur</em>. The man himself seemed to be treating this all as a game. Merlin could already hear Gaius admonish him with a “<em>well it’s not a game for you!”</em></p>
<p>No, if this was a game, it was a dangerous one, where life and death were the stakes. Still, he could not stop playing it. He was already playing a dangerous game just being here, regardless. And if what the dragon said was true, he had to stay to protect Arthur anyway. Though honestly, he was sometimes tempted to bring Arthur a swift end himself.</p>
<p>Regardless, Arthur’s obstinance more than just unnerved him; it interested him. He couldn’t deny that he was curious to see what this was all about. And he was even more curious to find what it would take to finally break the man’s hold on him.</p>
<p>What would Merlin have to do to be rid of this stupid job and stupid prince?</p>
<p>“Alright,” he said amiably. “I’ll make sure to serve you perfectly.”</p>
<p>Arthur smiled back, just as genuine as Merlin. <em>Which is to say, not at all.</em></p>
<p>“I would like to remind you, I may not send you to the stocks, but my father is not as forgiving. Who knows, he might even make you spend a few nights in the dungeons. Or worse.”</p>
<p>“Worse?” Now this worried Merlin. He knew perfectly well what sort of man Uther was. And Arthur was right; for all he was a pigheaded arse, he was no Uther. While Arthur was prone to a show of mercy, the same could not be said of the King.</p>
<p>“So. If you’re thinking of being <em>funny</em> during the feast, I recommend you rethink your choices,” Arthur said lowly, leaning in closer to Merlin.</p>
<p>“You know me, sire. I’m never funny.”</p>
<p>A hand landed on his shoulder. “I’m glad we have an understanding. Now, I need my dinner served and I would like a bath.”</p>
<p>Merlin, for once in his life, did not question the order or groan; he simply turned and went to complete his duties, mind racing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next morning was a cloudless and sunny day. If his mother were here she’d proclaim it’s supposed to rain soon. Merlin never believed her and she always ended up being right; he was almost convinced she was a witch, but she’d only laughed at him and said it was science, not magic, that gave her this insight.</p>
<p>The air was filled with the sounds of drums and some trumpets, getting everyone properly riled. As the King made his way to the seat up above everyone else, the knights started to pour out into the arena, all on horseback. The horses were properly outfitted, with matching colors to the knights and protections on their heads. A bit like helmets, he supposed, though he had no clue as to what they were actually called. All the knights held long sticks, looking deadly and pointed, though he was sure they were not spears.</p>
<p>As the drums settled down, the tourney was officially announced by the King. He gave a speech about knights and honor and the most important bit, which was how much money they would win fighting.</p>
<p>Merlin did not outfit Arthur in his mail and armor, as he was to accompany his father on this first day. He was, instead, sitting beside Uther up in a box overlooking the arena.</p>
<p>They will start with the joust, then the one-on-one fights, and finish off with archery. Arthur was not participating in the jousting, though he made sure to brag about the other times he’d done it and how he always won. Merlin believed him whole-heartedly. He was only going to be doing the one-on-one fights, as his father wanted him to step away from the fights. He was officially crowned prince now and so, his father apparently wanted him to carry out the more mundane tasks of everyday ruling. Must be nice, Merlin supposed, to open up tourneys and give speeches. What a life that would be.</p>
<p>Morgana is also there, on the king’s left, Gwen standing behind her. Merlin is very much not standing behind Arthur. In his place is George, the extremely uptight and boring servant who made terrible jokes about brass and polishing.</p>
<p>Merlin would’ve taken some pleasure at George being inflicted upon the prince, but the servant stands silent and at attention, ready to serve his master in any way. Merlin felt his lip twist in distaste. <em>What a bootlicker.  </em></p>
<p>His eyes met Gwen’s across the distance and she smiled at him, giving him a small wave to go along with it. He smiled back and gave her a small and quick wave.</p>
<p>Before he could look back to the arena, his eyes caught another pair, this time blue like sky. Arthur was staring pointedly at him, eyes narrowing in suspicion. He turned to look behind him, but Gwen was already looking straight ahead. He turned back around, a frown on his face. Merlin was so tempted to stick out his tongue or give him the finger, but even his idiot-self realized how very stupid that would be. So, he was left with smiling a big smile, innocent and naïve.</p>
<p>Arthur merely rolled his eyes, and Merlin knew that’s what he did even from this distance because his whole head rolled along with them. He was so dramatic when he wanted to be.</p>
<p>Poor Gwen. She had to stand there in silence, surrounded by unpleasant and terrible men. At least she had Morgana to sweeten this rotten deal. He’s been exposed to the woman’s quick and deadly wit, nearly broken some things, and spilled lots of water in the process. She’d joked that if he went on like that there’d be a drought. It was funny, but sounded too much like Arthur and had left him feeling sour.</p>
<p>Regardless, he was sure she’d have something to say about the fights, point out things others usually missed. Gwen always laughed when she was in Morgana’s company, so he knew she’d have a good time even though he himself wasn’t there to keep her company.</p>
<p>He sat beside Gaius, much less sour because he won’t have to suffer Arthur’s wonderful company the whole day, serving his every whim. Instead, he got to help Gaius with healing injured knights. He didn’t much appreciate the tomes Gaius had him reading, more interested in the practical applications rather than simple theory.</p>
<p>Today, he’ll get that practical. After a few knights knock each other’s skulls, he’ll get to use his newly acquired knowledge to fix them right up.</p>
<p>Or so he’d thought.</p>
<p>As the jousts began, Merlin soon realized his mistake in assuming that tourneys were simply two men beating each other with sticks. Apparently, it was much more complicated than that, seeing as the beating included a horse as well. <em>Oh what fun</em>, thought Merlin. <em>Not only does one get the chance to have their brains bashed in, they also get the lovely novelty of falling off of a horse and possibly having their ribs rearranged by a stray hoof.</em></p>
<p>He supposed he couldn’t fault them for trying to spice things up; watching two men beat each other must get a bit boring eventually. Not much variety there, watching the same thing happen over and over again. <em>It is not the same!</em> He could practically hear Arthur’s indignation. <em>There are many different styles and ways of fighting, all depending on the origin of the fighter and their strengths and weaknesses and blah blah blah.</em></p>
<p>Gods have mercy, he was hearing him in his own head now, too. Was there no escape from this torment?</p>
<p>From somewhere deep beneath the castle he heard a rumble and a great suffering sigh. He crossed his arms, entirely unimpressed with the judgement.</p>
<p>The first two knights up were not of Camelot, so Merlin paid them little mind. He simply sat and waited for the thing to be over with so he and Gaius could rush up and take away the poor sod who lost.</p>
<p>The knight in light green got tossed quickly, landing quite awkwardly on his arm. Merlin was sure he heard a crunch. He could only wince in sympathy as he’d broken an arm when he was younger while climbing a tree. He’d fallen off and he still remembered the horrible snapping and cracking sound as he hit the ground. He also remembered quite well what it felt like when his bone was set.</p>
<p>Thankfully, the knight didn’t end up catching any stray hooves.</p>
<p>The other knight, wearing orange, was a good sport and tried to help him out instead of reveling in his own victory. Gaius rushed to the scene and shooed the other man away. Merlin, with his newly acquired skills in putting on and taking off armor, quickly got to work removing the knight’s right arm gauntlet. The man winced while Merlin worked and held his arm carefully while Gaius tried to take a closer look.</p>
<p>“There is no tearing in the skin, so that’s good. But your arm is broken. We’ll need to set the bone and make a sling.”</p>
<p>The knight pales at the mention of setting bone. Merlin would’ve joined him if he wasn’t already white as a sheet. With the helmet off, Merlin sees that the knight isn’t some seasoned warrior, but a young lad, no more than seventeen summers.</p>
<p>No wonder he lost so quickly.</p>
<p>Gaius determines that there is no other injury, so the lad gets up and walks away to the physician’s tent. Merlin trails after, not too keen now on getting “practical”.</p>
<p>As the jousts proceeded and more knights came in with injuries to tend, Merlin quickly figured that he was merely there to act as a glorified assistant. He was disappointed, but also a bit pleased as he wasn’t sure he could stomach resetting bones or stitching skin together. Most of his duties were composed of handing things over, mixing potions, and cleaning wounds.</p>
<p>Surprisingly, most of the knights fared well. No one got kicked to death by a horse and the armor seemed to protect their heads from any terrible damage, though Gaius warned there could be internal bleeding they could not see.</p>
<p>At least Merlin was learning something.</p>
<p>The jousting ended in the afternoon, giving everyone ample time to clean up and wind down for the feast. Everyone was invited. Or rather, everyone who is a knight, a noble, and not a servant.</p>
<p>Merlin had been under the assumption that he’d be attending the feast by Gaius’s side, but he was quickly freed from his delusions. Instead of spending the rest of the afternoon relaxing, he was ushered to Arthur’s chambers.</p>
<p>George was nowhere to be seen.</p>
<p>Merlin sighed.</p>
<p>“Now, now, there’s no need to act as though you’re suffering.”</p>
<p>“Oh, but I am, sire.”</p>
<p>Arthur raised his brow, leaning back against his desk. He seemed loose, at ease. The way he was looking at Merlin was a bit unnerving; he watched Merlin like he was some trinket, curious and puzzling.</p>
<p>“You see, I was supposed to clean the leech tank, a task I greatly enjoy, but I was unfortunately interrupted. It’s understandable and I don’t blame you. My company <em>is</em> very desirable.”</p>
<p>Arthur’s face remained neutral, but his eyes were narrowed a bit, his lips twitching. Was he trying not to laugh?</p>
<p>“Well, I am <em>deeply</em> sorry that I took you away from your…leeches. But look on the bright side! You still get to clean something!”</p>
<p>“Oh? What is it this time? Your smallclothes? Your soiled sheets?”</p>
<p>“My sheets are <em>not</em> soiled!”</p>
<p>“Well, of course they’re not. Not like you’re getting any.”</p>
<p>Merlin could see a fist clenching, a jaw twitching with gnashing teeth.</p>
<p>“Get. The tub.”</p>
<p>He was surprised that that even came out as intelligible. Arthur’s eyes were flared, no longer amused, but genuinely irritated. Though he wasn’t eager to see to his sire’s every need, he did feel something within him loosen up. Seeing Arthur out of his depth was much preferable to the Arthur that watched Merlin silently with a smirk like he knew something Merlin didn’t.</p>
<p>Sighing, he turned to get the tub out, pulling it closer to the window, which was open and letting in a nice breeze. The higher elevation and the stones of the keep kept the rooms cool, making for a pleasant haven away from the cruel sun.</p>
<p>He ran out with a bucket to gather some water at the aquifer. It was hot today, so he’ll have to make the water cooler, though not so cool as to be cold.</p>
<p>Arthur hated cold baths.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Arthur’s bath was, as usual, quite perfect. He wondered how Merlin did it; he was completely useless at everything else, but getting the water right was something he never failed at.</p>
<p>Perhaps, after the sod got enough of Arthur and finally decided to quit, he could become the castle’s bath water get-er.</p>
<p>Merlin, unlike most servants, was very hands-off when it came to bathing Arthur. Arthur was used to sitting there in the water while someone scrubbed every inch of him with nicely scented soap. However, with Merlin as a servant, he was left with doing the bathing himself. Secretly, he liked it.</p>
<p>But his arms could only take him so far. He hated this, hated asking. Having someone at his back, especially someone he didn’t know well, made his hackles rise. He could never fully relax when his back was washed, some paranoid part of him always expecting the point of a knife at his neck.</p>
<p>He doesn’t think Merlin would stoop so low; if he were to stab Arthur, he’d probably do it in his face.</p>
<p>Speaking of Merlin, he was being uncharacteristically quiet. At the moment, he was puttering around the chambers, doing his chores. Or pretending to.</p>
<p>Arthur sighed. This is where he asks for help, except he isn’t asking because someone of his station does not ask.</p>
<p>“Merlin. Come wash my hair,” he ordered.</p>
<p>The boy came quickly, sitting on a stool behind the tub. Arthur tensed, but slowly relaxed his muscles as Merlin massaged his scalp, rubbing the soap into his hair. That was another secret skill he had: washing hair. Perhaps he’d done it before?</p>
<p>Arthur was just about to ask, but water suddenly poured down his head and into his face.</p>
<p>“Merlin!” he sputtered out, wiping his eyes. “You could’ve warned me!”</p>
<p>“Ah. I suppose I could, yes.”</p>
<p>He quickly washed the soap out of his eyes, then sighed. What had he done to be served in such a way? Was this fate’s cruel punishment to be saddled with such a nitwit?</p>
<p>“Oh!” Merlin exclaimed suddenly. Arthur startled and turned around, water sloshing. He gave Merlin an incredulous look. “Lady Ana!”</p>
<p>“What about her?” he asked, completely bewildered.</p>
<p>“I figured it out! About the whole flower petal thing. I was cleaning your chambers and noticed that the flowers in the vase were wilted and I thought it’d be nice to bring some new ones in. You know, spruce up the place, make it smell…less like you.”</p>
<p>“Hey!”</p>
<p>“And then I remembered the thing you mentioned about Lady Ana and -”</p>
<p>Arthur rolled his eyes.</p>
<p>“Merlin, it’s not that serious, it was just a joke and -”</p>
<p>“It’s for sex!” Merlin gleefully shouted. Arthur was stunned. Shocked. Completely taken aback. His mouth hung open, words that had been planning to leave never arriving in the first place.</p>
<p>“I beg your pardon?”</p>
<p>What could Merlin possibly be on about now? The boy, Arthur now knew, was a bit strange. But this?</p>
<p>“Well, think about it. Flowers smell nice, right? You put some petals in your rooms, scatter them about… Set the <em>mood</em>.”</p>
<p>“The <em>mood</em>.”</p>
<p>“Yes!” Merlin replied, tone exasperated, and eyes rolling. “You know, for - ”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>They stood in silence for a moment.</p>
<p>“Merlin, you do know Lady Ana is eighty years old, give or take?”</p>
<p>“Is she?” Merlin’s face scrunched up in thought. “Hm. She’s as old as Gaius then.”</p>
<p>“I don’t think Gaius is that old.”</p>
<p>“Isn’t he?” He tilted his head to the side.</p>
<p>“Merlin. <em>Why</em> are we having this conversation?”</p>
<p>“Oh! I just thought the learned man was coming on to Lady Ana and she totally misread it. But I suppose if she’s that old… But then, you never know.”</p>
<p>“Merlin?”</p>
<p>“Yes?”</p>
<p>“I think there’s something <em>severely </em>wrong with you.”</p>
<p>Merlin’s face was hilariously offended, so much so that Arthur had to stop himself from snickering.</p>
<p>“Have you hit your head as a child, by any chance?” Arthur asked.</p>
<p>“No. But you have. Repeatedly.”</p>
<p>“I haven’t hit my head as a child.”</p>
<p>“No, I meant <em>you</em> hit <em>my</em> head.”</p>
<p>“You were wearing a helmet!”</p>
<p>“It didn’t help much.”</p>
<p>“Evidently.”</p>
<p>Arthur was already turned around, so he completely missed Merlin’s glare. And, missing the glare, he was completely unaware of the exact moment Merlin made the decision to tip a water-filled bucket over his head.</p>
<p>There was a moment of complete silence where all parties involved processed what just happened and tried to decide what their next steps would be.</p>
<p>Arthur chose to yell.</p>
<p>“Merlin!” he turned back again and was met with an innocently stupid expression on his manservant’s face. He didn’t buy it for a second.</p>
<p>“I was just getting the soap out of your hair,” Merlin replied.</p>
<p>“I don’t <em>have</em> soap in my hair, you idiot!”</p>
<p>“Well, you don’t anymore.”</p>
<p>Arthur was sure the sound he made was a growl. This boy was turning the prince into a beastly animal.</p>
<p>Merlin held up his hands in supplication, face wary now. His eyes were alert, waiting for Arthur to strike. Arthur moved away from Merlin, leaning back and relaxing. <em>Let him wait.</em> </p>
<p>“I know that practicing magic is illegal in Camelot, but right now I beg for a sorcerer to attack. Maybe, just <em>maybe</em>, I’ll hit my head hard enough to not remember this exchange.”</p>
<p> Merlin, for no feasible reason Arthur could come up with, looked very offended.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Within less than three weeks, he was back in the grand hall, surrounded by knights wearing their colors and noble ladies in their finest dresses making eyes at them.</p>
<p>“How many feasts can a person have?” he couldn’t help but wonder aloud. He hadn’t had much time to appreciate the festivities, as he was forced to serve Arthur, but now there was a slight reprieve and he could look to his heart’s content.</p>
<p>“Well, they’re not all that common,” Gwen said. She, like him, was standing behind the dais of the royal table, ready to serve Morgana. Every time the lady finished her drink, Gwen would be right there, ready to serve her more. Morgana would always smile and thank her.</p>
<p>Arthur would probably fall on his own sword before he did the same for Merlin.</p>
<p>He raised a brow at her. She started to fluster.</p>
<p>“They’re not! This is just – well, perhaps you came at the wrong time. Or maybe right time? I suppose it’s right, if you like feasts and banquets and balls, but if you don’t then…” she trailed off, running out of verbal steam.</p>
<p>“I suppose I don’t mind them,” he said, though his opinions on them have soured quite a bit since the last one. He’d been starry-eyed and filled with wonder, but now that he’d seen what a feast really looks like, he can’t help but be a bit bitter.</p>
<p>He had to be a servant now and that meant doing servant work. He had to fetch food and clean and follow around his master like a dog.</p>
<p>He’d been down to the kitchens, he’d seen the maids run around cleaning the grand hall and putting up banners. He’d seen one boy run out to buy candles to fill the candelabras with, and the stableboys readying the stables for more horses. The work that went in to make this one night possible was immeasurable.</p>
<p>And these sods would never see it. They ate and drank and ran off to fuck without a care in the world that the next morning all of their shit will have to be shoveled by someone. But as long as it wasn’t them, who cares, right?</p>
<p>He felt an elbow in his side. He looked over to Gwen, a confused glare ready, but saw her point somewhere and turned to look.</p>
<p>Arthur was looking mighty displeased with him, turned around as he was and clearly waiting for something. Luckily, Uther wasn’t around to see it all. And where was that old bastard anyway?</p>
<p>He tried not to be sour as he approached Arthur.</p>
<p>“Yes?”</p>
<p>“I need to drink.”</p>
<p>“Alright.” Merlin knew he was pushing it, but he couldn’t help it. His mood was shit now and he could feel his magic stirring in agitation.</p>
<p>
  <em>Ugh, what is it <strong>now</strong>?</em>
</p>
<p>“So pour me some,” he seethed more than said, wearing a very friendly smile.</p>
<p>Merlin grabbed the pitcher off the table (and really, what a lazy sod). He gripped the handle hard, his fingers clenching.</p>
<p>“What is the matter with you?” he asked, looking genuinely confused. Before Merlin could so much as open his mouth, someone came up to the table.</p>
<p>“Apologies for intruding,” a knight spoke. Merlin and Arthur turned to look at him. “I’m Sir Valiant.”</p>
<p>“Well met, sir. I hope I don’t need to introduce myself,” Arthur replied, smirk in place. <em>Gods, he thinks he’s charming or something.</em></p>
<p>“Of course not, Your Highness. I look forward to competing against you.”</p>
<p>“And I, you. May the best man prevail,” he replied, holding up his, admittedly, empty cup. Not that Valiant needed to know that. He held his own cup up and then they both drank (or pretended to, in Arthur’s case). Wasn’t that considered rude or something? Hell if Merlin knew all the stupid rules of court.</p>
<p>When they were both done, Valiant spoke up once more. “I must admit, I did not come up here simply to introduce myself to you.”</p>
<p>“Oh?”</p>
<p>“I wanted to ask for a dance.” It took all of Merlin’s strength not to overturn the pitcher and start laughing like a maniac. The look on Arthur’s face! “From Lady Morgana, of course,” he continued, turning to look at said lady. She gave him a knowing smirk and got up without waiting for Arthur’s approval. She took his hand and they went on to the dancefloor, where Uther was apparently dancing with some lady who looked to be older than Morgana, but significantly younger than the king.</p>
<p>Merlin looked back to Arthur, who had a smile plastered on his face but a clenched fist on the table.</p>
<p>“He really got you, didn’t he?”</p>
<p>“He didn’t get anything. Apart from a lousy dance partner.”</p>
<p>“I dunno, she looks pretty good at it to me.”</p>
<p>“How would you know? You’ve never danced in your life.”</p>
<p>“I’ve danced plenty!”</p>
<p>“Where? Around a bonfire in your village?” Now the smirk was back, his hand relaxed. <em>Well, good to know insulting me puts him in such high spirits.</em></p>
<p>“At least that’s something. I doubt you’ve danced at all. Unless it was with a sword in hand, that is.”</p>
<p>“No, I don’t recall ever dancing with swords. But I’ve fought with plenty of them.”</p>
<p>“You think you’ll win against that guy?”</p>
<p>“No.” He looked Merlin in the eye and said, “I <em>know</em> I’ll win.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>Arthur gave no time for Merlin to come up with some equally witty and stupid retort as he got up and approached the dancefloor. The music had slowed, giving way to some slower paced dances. This dance required a pair, who would stay together before moving on to the next person.</p>
<p>He made his way to Morgana, stealing her away from Valiant. He seemed displeased to go, but gave Morgana a smile with eyes that promised more. Arthur tried not to gag.</p>
<p><em>More isn’t happening anytime soon, not if father says anything about it. </em>Though, in all fairness, he doubted Morgana would agree to anything. She was unconventional, but the one thing she always maintained was her purity. She flirted as easy as the wind blew, but she was never caught out sneaking about with someone, stealing kisses in gardens, or laying in her bedchambers.</p>
<p>Arthur, knowing Morgana, doubted she hadn’t done anything. There must have been someone, at some point, but she was good at hiding.</p>
<p>“So how goes it with your new manservant?” Morgana asked casually. A casual Morgana is always a lie, a necessary front when fishing for gossip and rumor. He considered, for a moment, to tell her some pretty lie, but there would be no point. Morgana always knew what she needed to know; after all, she <em>always</em> got what she wanted.</p>
<p>“He wishes for me to fire him,” he replied, leading the dance.</p>
<p>“Did he tell you that?” she asked, voice curious and perhaps a tad surprised.</p>
<p>“In all manner but verbal.”</p>
<p>“Then fire him,” she replied obviously, looking upon Arthur as though he were slow. But then, she almost always looks at him that way.</p>
<p>“I can’t. You know I can’t, not if I don’t want to cause offense. My father chose him and he gave him the position for saving my life. Firing him would seem to everyone, including the King, that I do not care for my own life and do not respect my King.”</p>
<p>Of course, there was also the matter of keeping careful watch over Merlin. But Morgana didn’t need to know that. She would never know that, if he could help it.</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes.</p>
<p>“You aren’t just some ordinary lord. You’re crown prince! You can choose who serves you without causing offense. I’m sure Uther wouldn’t care much if you fire the boy; he probably doesn’t even remember he exists. He’s served you a few weeks now, I’m sure that’s enough to satisfy his gratitude.”</p>
<p>Arthur stared at her, trying to piece this all together. Morgana was usually nice to Merlin and spoke to him as she did to her maidservant. So why was she so callous now? <em>Maybe she sees he doesn’t like to serve me and wishes to free him. Perhaps the cruelty is a secret act of kindness. Morgana is known for her compassion. </em>But Arthur sees her in private and knows she is as cunning as she is kind.</p>
<p>“You only say that because you want him to be your servant.”</p>
<p>“Maybe I do. What of it?”</p>
<p>“<em>Why</em> would you want that?”</p>
<p>“Merlin is my friend. And he is Gwen’s friend. In fact, we all get along quite well. I believe he’ll do much better with me than with you.”</p>
<p>“Is that so.”</p>
<p>“Yes. Besides, he’s a breath of fresh air in these stuffy old halls. He’s always full of good humor and he lacks cruelty.” <em>Well, he’s full of something alright, but it isn’t ‘good humor’</em>. “Why wouldn’t I want a servant like that?”</p>
<p>“Because he’s rude?”</p>
<p>“Hm. Strange. He’s never been rude to <em>me</em>. Perhaps it is <em>you</em> that is the issue.” Morgana gave him a small and very genuine smile, then quickly danced away. Not too quickly to be seen as running, of course. No, Morgana did not <em>run</em>. She flowed with the tide of the dance, joining another partner as Arthur was met with his own new one. He desperately wanted to get away, to go back to his seat at the table, but he did not want to disappoint the young lady staring starry-eyed at him.</p>
<p>As the dance ended, Morgana left the dance and joined the rest of the court, melding with the comings and goings of the nobles and knights, then finally set upon some group of ladies to gossip.</p>
<p>
  <em>Always the last word. </em>
</p>
<p>For all that he knew how Morgana worked, he couldn’t help but think of her words. They were like berries, sometimes sweet and sometimes poison. Yet, their whole childhood spent together was not enough to inoculate him. He thought about her mild criticism till the next day when he was, once again, greeted by Merlin.</p>
<p>For once in his life, the boy was not late.</p>
<p>He arrived with his morning meal and after Arthur was dressed and fed, he put on Arthur’s mail and armor.</p>
<p>Arthur refused to be impressed with Merlin managing to put on all his armor correctly, but for a peasant boy who had about two days to prepare, it wasn’t all bad. Though he did take his sweet time with it.</p>
<p>“Will you be finished sometime today?”</p>
<p>“Yes, sire. Hang on,” Merlin replied, trying to tighten the straps on his arms. He was clumsy with it, long fingers moving like they weren’t under his own control. A bit like his legs. Arthur was convinced some rogue sorcerer enchanted a fawn and it stumbled out in human form right into Camelot and became Arthur’s manservant.</p>
<p>He was about to tell him to lay off so he could fix the straps himself, but Merlin finished just in time and beamed at him, clearly very proud of himself.</p>
<p>Briefly, Arthur let himself imagine it was him putting on the armor on Merlin and sending him out to fight.</p>
<p>He’d be beat within thirty seconds, maybe forty-five if he ran around like a headless chicken. He snorted to himself and he saw Merlin give him a look, but Arthur said nothing and walked out. Merlin, as was becoming the norm, trailed after him.</p>
<p>Down at the tourney, he had his own tent set up, just like the rest of the competing knights. Merlin broke away from him and went in, while Arthur marched on to the arena, walking in line with the other competing knights. They stood in two rows, surrounded by cheering people as the drums rumbled a steady beat. As his father made his way to them, the drums slowly quieted down and the people silenced themselves to listen.</p>
<p>“Knights of the realm,” he began. “It’s a great honor to welcome you to the second day of the tournament. Over these next three days, you will put your bravery to the test, your skills as warriors, and, of course, to challenge the reigning champion: my son, Prince Arthur.”</p>
<p>Arthur had been looking ahead, but turned when he felt eyes on him. He saw Valiant give him a look. Arthur wasn’t sure what it meant, but he knew he didn’t like it.</p>
<p>“Only one can have the honor of being crowned champion. And he will receive a prize of one thousand gold pieces.” The chest was opened up before them, the gold shimmering in the light of the sun. Arthur could practically feel the hunger in his fellow knights as they set their eyes on the gold. But none of them exuded as much want as Valiant.</p>
<p>“It is in combat that we learn a knight’s true nature. Whether he is indeed a warrior, or a coward.” He paused for a second, glancing at all the knights, before announcing, “Let the battles begin!”</p>
<p>Everyone went up in cheer, eager to see the fights. The knights all left the field, but before Arthur could move an inch, his father intercepted him.</p>
<p>“I trust you will make me proud,” his father said to him, a warning in his tone. He expected Arthur to win, as always. For the honor and the money.</p>
<p> Since he wasn’t up first, he went back to his tent in the hopes of unwinding a bit, but knowing it was all for naught.</p>
<p>Arthur could never relax, not until he was finally fighting and not thinking.</p>
<p>Merlin buzzed around, bringing water and some meats and cheeses and fruit.</p>
<p>Arthur did not eat.</p>
<p>That didn’t stop Merlin from taking liberties, however. He would’ve admonished Merlin, but he did not wish to speak at the moment.</p>
<p>“Are you nervous?” he asked, breaking the silence.</p>
<p>Arthur closed his eyes and did not groan, but he did heave a terribly deep sigh. He opened his eyes and looked to Merlin, who was standing near the table, fingers plucking a grape off a vine.</p>
<p>“I don’t <em>get</em> nervous.”</p>
<p>“Really?” his voice was disbelieving. “I thought everyone got nervous.”</p>
<p>“I’m not everyone, am I?”</p>
<p>Merlin hummed, but said nothing more, continuing to chew on some grapes.</p>
<p>They settled into relative silence once more, only broken up by cheers or shouts or grunts of pain. Arthur did his best to ignore all that, focusing on steadying his breathing and entering a state of calm. He always did this before a fight, something he learned from his father and Leon. When you fight, there is no time to think, only to act. No hesitation, just muscle memory.</p>
<p>“So I noticed something,” Merlin said.</p>
<p>Arthur opened his eyes. (When had he closed them?) He looked straight ahead, not giving any other indication to Merlin that he desired to continue whatever inane conversation they were about to have.</p>
<p>“Some of the knights, they have a little bit of…cloth. Around their arms? I was wondering what they were.”</p>
<p>“Favors.”</p>
<p>“Favors. What’s that?”</p>
<p>Arthur heaved another deep sigh.</p>
<p>“If you must know, they are tokens of affection, given to knights by noble ladies. They’re for good luck.”</p>
<p>“I see. And have you got one? A favor?” he asked, popping a grape into his mouth, and chewing obnoxiously.</p>
<p>Arthur stilled, staring straight ahead. It was amazing how aggravating Merlin could be without even trying.</p>
<p>“No, Merlin. I haven’t got one.”</p>
<p>“Oh? I suppose it’s no surprise there.”</p>
<p>“And just what is that supposed to mean?”</p>
<p>“Just that, you know, you’re an insufferable cabbagehead. Who’d want to give <em>you</em> a favor?”</p>
<p>“Plenty of noble ladies would give me one! I’m the prince!”</p>
<p>“Then why haven’t you got one?” he asked, popping yet another grape into his mouth.</p>
<p>“Well. That’s because,” he paused, fumbling for an explanation. “I do not take favors.”</p>
<p>“Why not?”</p>
<p>“I do not need them. I don’t need some charm to help me win. Besides, I’m the prince. Showing favoritism can be bad for court and also give the wrong impression.”</p>
<p>“And by ‘wrong impression’ you mean ‘marriage prospects’.”</p>
<p>Arthur cringed but nodded.</p>
<p>Merlin ate the last of his grapes, stuffing them all into his mouth rather gracelessly. Arthur made a face, but said nothing as it was a pointless endeavor to admonish Merlin.</p>
<p>The boy then put his hands behind his neck and unfastened the neckerchief. He tugged it off and held it out. Arthur stared at it, then back at Merlin.</p>
<p>“Well? Take it!” he said, though it sounded more like, “Weh? Tae ih.”</p>
<p>“Why? Are you offering it to wipe the sweat off my brow? How considerate!” He went to take it, but Merlin quickly swiped his hand away.</p>
<p>“<em>Mer</em>lin. Are you giving it to me or not?”</p>
<p>“I am not giving this to you so you can wipe your sweaty mug all over it!” he sputtered out, his words coming out clear now that his mouth was free of grape. Arthur scoffed at such rude and inaccurate portrayal of his royal visage, but Merlin continued, “I’m giving you a favor.”</p>
<p>“That. Is a <em>favor</em>.”</p>
<p>“Yep!”</p>
<p>“Merlin, I don’t know if you recall, but we just had a discussion about why I cannot take a favor literally a few seconds ago.”</p>
<p>“Oh come on, no one will know who it’s from. Everyone will claim it’s theirs and therefore it will be no one’s.”</p>
<p>“Alright,” Arthur said, because it was a fine point.</p>
<p>However.</p>
<p>“Still, there’s something you’re missing.”</p>
<p>“Which is?”</p>
<p>“A dress and a status of nobility.”</p>
<p>“I think I can get my hands on a dress. The status though, that will be more difficult. Marriage might have to be involved.”</p>
<p>“Didn’t realize you were so eager, <em>Mer</em>lin. I promise I won’t tell Morgana if you nick one.”</p>
<p>“Har, har.”</p>
<p> “Well, seeing as you’re neither a lady nor noble, I do not see how I can accept.”</p>
<p>“But no one will know! That’s the point!”</p>
<p>“Ah! But that is where you are mistaken; <em>I</em> will know.”</p>
<p>Merlin rolled his eyes.</p>
<p>“So? What does it matter where it comes from? It’s only meant to be a token anyway.”</p>
<p>“A token of <em>affection</em>. I didn’t realize you had such passions for your prince, Merlin.”</p>
<p>The boy spluttered.</p>
<p>“I do <em>not</em> – I don’t mean it in that way. Think if it as a token of friendship? No, that’s wrong. Maybe a platonic token of good luck from a servant to his prince?”</p>
<p>Arthur raised a brow.</p>
<p>“We are breaking some significant rules of etiquette here.”</p>
<p>Merlin sniffed uncaringly. “So?”</p>
<p>Arthur turned away before his smirk could be seen. For all that Merlin’s insolence annoyed him, his disregard for rules was refreshing. And a bit fun, too.</p>
<p>“Look, do you want it or not? It’s red, even. Matches.”</p>
<p>Arthur made a show of it, the terrible tragedy of succumbing to his manservant’s idiocy, but Merlin didn’t seem to pay much mind.</p>
<p>“You’ll have to put it on me. Can’t tie it with one hand.”</p>
<p>Merlin stepped closer as Arthur held his arm out. He took the neckerchief and folded it a bit so it was a thin strip. Then he put it around Arthur’s armored arm and neatly tied it together on the side.</p>
<p>Arthur watched his long nimble fingers work, at odds with his usual clumsy self. He had such trouble with the straps before; had it been all for show, just a way to annoy Arthur? Or had it been some kind of nervousness? Who knew what went on in that head of his.</p>
<p>His eyes went higher, studying Merlin’s profile up close.</p>
<p>His lashes were quite long and his eyes were a grey blue. His lips were red and Arthur had to wonder how it is he made them look like that. Surely, it couldn’t be natural –</p>
<p>“Done.”</p>
<p>Arthur blinked a few times, then turned his head away quickly, trying, perhaps in vain, to hide his unabashed staring.</p>
<p><em>It’s not my fault he looks like that! </em>Besides, Arthur is the prince; he can do as he pleases, even if what he pleases is staring at Merlin. He’s not going to give any significant thought to <em>that</em>.</p>
<p>So he glances at the favor tied at his arm, then looks to Merlin, who is now staring at Arthur. He raises a brow as if to ask, “Well?”</p>
<p>Arthur ignores him and walks toward the tent flap, ready to fight. He feels like there’s lightning in his body, rushing down his arms and legs and through his heart. He wants to dispel this strange energy.</p>
<p>When his name is finally called, he walks to the arena without a backward glance, pulling the helm over his face as the sun shines into his eyes.</p>
<p>The crowd roars and he smiles, raising his sword.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Merlin rolled his eyes.</p>
<p>Arthur couldn’t do anything without drama, it seemed.</p>
<p>It was fun, however, to watch. It was even more fun to participate. Merlin’s interactions with Arthur have markedly improved since he discovered a game which he calls “Annoy the Hell Out of Arthur”. Watching the man burst out in anger was like watching some actor perform on stage. His arms would fling around wildly, his eyes would widen, his voice would growl.</p>
<p>
  <em>Perhaps I shouldn’t be so eager to be fired. I wouldn’t get entertainment like this elsewhere.</em>
</p>
<p>Fun though it was, Merlin could not forget he was a sorcerer and Arthur was the son of King Uther. One could not <em>forget</em> in Camelot, could not stumble even a bit. A simple trip could mean you landing on the chopping block.</p>
<p>Merlin took a deep sigh and tried thinking of better things. Funny things.</p>
<p>The favor.</p>
<p>It was all a lark, of course; he knew perfectly well what they were, but upon noticing Arthur’s lack of one, he decided to tease. The suggestion to give Arthur his favor was also a lark, a gentle poking of a bear to see what it would do.</p>
<p>Arthur did not disappoint. But he did manage a surprise.</p>
<p>He actually accepted. He’d thought the man would tell Merlin off and Merlin would have a laugh with Gwen about it later. Now, however, Merlin wasn’t sure what to do about it. He didn’t think anyone would figure out the cloth was his, but there was still some strange feeling underneath his skin.</p>
<p>It was stupid; it meant nothing, they weren’t even friends. It was just a cloth.</p>
<p>In his fuming at himself, he didn’t notice Arthur’s return.</p>
<p>The clang of a helm being dropped on the table startled him out of his frantic thoughts. He thinks he might’ve flinched a bit, but he pretended it didn’t happen.</p>
<p>“You’re done already? That was fast.”</p>
<p>“Easy fight,” Arthur replied with a smug smirk. Merlin rolled his eyes, but he supposed the smugness was earned; he had won fair and square, after all.</p>
<p>The fight being easy did not prevent a sweat from breaking out on Arthur’s brow, though Merlin attributed that to the heat and the helm. He picked up a relatively clean rag and went to swipe the sweat off of Arthur’s brow.</p>
<p>Arthur jerked back. “What are you doing?”</p>
<p>“Wiping your face?”</p>
<p>“Oh. Right. Continue,” he replied imperiously. If Merlin continued to be in the prince’s presence he was sure he would lose his eyes from rolling them so frequently.</p>
<p>He repaid Arthur’s order by using more force than necessary. Arthur frowned, but said nothing. Then, Merlin decided he might need something to drink, so he filled a goblet with some chilled water from the bucket and handed it to Arthur, who looked unfairly surprised.</p>
<p>“You know <em>Mer</em>lin, I think you’re finally getting the hang of being a servant. A bit slow on the uptake but…”</p>
<p>For that, he got water to his face. Arthur sputtered a bit, wiping the water from his eyes. He turned a treacherous expression upon Merlin, who met it with an innocent one.</p>
<p>“What? I thought you needed to freshen up a bit.”</p>
<p>“You know what? You’re right. But you’re looking a bit peaky yourself. Perhaps you’d like to <em>freshen up</em> as well?” he asked in a deceptively polite tone.</p>
<p>Merlin swallowed air.</p>
<p>“No, I’m alright,” he answered, as if he wasn’t aware of what Arthur was about to do. He could only brace himself before a bucketful of water came tumbling over his head. His shirt was all wet, but his trousers were, thankfully, spared.</p>
<p>He supposed, the day being hot, that he’d simply dry. There was no need to make a fuss of this.</p>
<p>Those thoughts came a little after he glowered at Arthur, who stood there, grinning like a madman.</p>
<p>“You look like a drowned cat,” he said, laughter in his voice. His eyes were crinkled up, his wet bangs clung to his forehead.</p>
<p>It was unfortunate he looked so good while tormenting Merlin.</p>
<p>“That was stupid. You’ve gone and wasted all the water!”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry. I’m sure you can run out and get some more.”</p>
<p>“No, I can’t. I have to stay here and tend to you.”</p>
<p>“My, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were a decent servant, but I know you’re only saying that because you’re a lazy sod.”</p>
<p>“The only lazy sod here is you. At least I’m capable of dressing myself.”</p>
<p>Arthur heaved a deep sigh. As if Merlin was the one being difficult here!</p>
<p>“I think I can bear to be apart from you for a few minutes, Merlin. Now, go fetch some more water, I’m parched.”</p>
<p>Merlin glowered at him as he made his way out of the tent, muttering under his breath about stupid prat princes and their stupid wastefulness.</p>
<p>He was so distracted he didn’t notice he was walking into anyone until he felt and heard the sound of metal on metal. The person he walked into barely moved an inch, but Merlin had to keep himself from falling over onto his arse like an undignified, well, arse.</p>
<p>He looked up and saw a knight in yellow, the one from the feast, who danced with Morgana.</p>
<p>He was about to say something, but the knight beat him to it. “Watch where you’re going, servant boy.”</p>
<p>He didn’t want for Merlin’s response as he shoved him away and walked on to the field. Clearly it was his turn to fight. The crowd began cheering when they saw him and he raised his fist in the air.</p>
<p>Well, Merlin found him significantly less funny now. He’d seemed so nice the other night, but he supposed he was only acting as such to get Morgana to dance with him.</p>
<p>“Merlin, are you back already?” Arthur asked, voice incredulous. Merlin turned back to him, empty-handed.</p>
<p>Arthur heaved a deep sigh. “Must I do everything myself?”</p>
<p>Merlin would deny it, but he squawked. “<em>You</em>? I’m the one who-”</p>
<p>“Yes, yes. Can you go already? I still have two more fights to win.”</p>
<p>Merlin glared, said nothing, and turned to stomp away to get the water.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Gwen, bless her kind soul, had taken to helping Merlin learn to put on armor. She was surprisingly good at it and knew what all the pieces were called and where they went.</p>
<p>“You probably find it a bit strange.”</p>
<p>“No! Not at all. I think it’s great you know all this. It’s been a big help. Though I do have to wonder why you know. I don’t imagine Lady Morgana wears much armor.”</p>
<p>“You’d be surprised,” Gwen replied with a smirk. “But no, it’s not because of her. My father is a blacksmith, so I sort of know all about metalwork. He thinks I might inherit it one day, but I’m not sure it’s for me.”</p>
<p>“I think you’d be great! You could make swords for Arthur and all the other knights. And maybe one for Morgana, too.”</p>
<p>Gwen had blushed at this and stuttered something out that Merlin couldn’t quite make out.</p>
<p>Even when not with her, Merlin still practiced on his own, studying the book Gaius had given him. He had to be prepared to do it well and do it quickly so Arthur could go out and have a pretend fight against a pretend enemy.</p>
<p>Merlin, having already acquainted Gaius and Arthur with his disdain at the idea of tourneys, had made Gwen his newest victim. She seemed to agree it was a stupid venture, but had to admit that it was a bit fun, especially when the more annoying knights got knocked on their arses.</p>
<p>Merlin had to concede the point as he hadn’t thought of that before. There was a certain idiot called <em>Sir</em> Trellan that he’d love to see beaten and bruised. He was an absolute brute, more so than Arthur. He was rude and insulting and always treated the servants like shit. Good news was that he was supremely overconfident and had nothing of actual skill to back up his egregious claims of superiority.</p>
<p>He’d noticed that even Arthur gave him a wary look, trying to be diplomatic but cursing under his breath when the man was out of earshot.</p>
<p>Perhaps Arthur would get to fight him. Merlin had been ready to cheer on Arthur’s opponents, but his morals would not allow such a thing if Arthur were to fight Trellan the Bellend.</p>
<p>Gwen had giggled when she’d heard the nickname and it spread quick as the plague, causing poor Sir Knight Trellan to be followed by snickering wherever he went.</p>
<p>He still hasn’t figured it out.</p>
<p>It was the third day of the tourney, Arthur’s second in participation. The early morning had been reserved for practice, which Merlin skipped in favor of helping out Gaius treat the injured, and the afternoons were saved for one-on-one matches. Now, Merlin was methodically going over the order of every piece he had to put on Arthur and making sure to fasten the bits of armor so they don’t fall off but don’t restrict movement either. Arthur had also insisted on the “favor”, so Merlin had to put that on him, too. It was worn and dirty now, but it still hung on to his arm for dear life as Arthur went into the fray once again.</p>
<p>Merlin had the misfortune of finding out that Trellan the Bellend was not going to be fighting with Arthur. He wasn’t going to be fighting anyone at all, because he was currently in the physician’s quarters. His fight had been with Valiant, the knight who wore yellow colors and who’d danced with Morgana. And who’d been supremely rude to Merlin. The fight, Merlin guessed, wasn’t a challenge for the yellow knight.</p>
<p>Speaking of, he was currently fighting another knight bearing brown colors and no shield. His face was completely covered, making it so no one knew who it was underneath. The strange knight had progressed quickly and fought well, but Valiant fought even better.</p>
<p>He came out on top of that fight, pride shining through his face. Arthur and Merlin watched as he paraded around, taking great joy in victory.</p>
<p>“That guy looks pretty handy with a sword,” Merlin commented. Arthur said nothing. The scoreboard keeper took the shield bearing three snakes and moved it up a notch. Looking at them now, it looked like the fight would most likely come down to Arthur and Valiant. Merlin had seen Valiant fight, but he’d seen Arthur, too. He wanted to say he didn’t care about all this macho bravado, but he’d caught himself cheering Arthur on.</p>
<p>He knew next to nothing of fighting, but the way Arthur did it was captivating. It was like watching a dancer, with how quickly he dodged and spun away, then came back in for the kill. Merlin had assumed Arthur would rely on brute strength, but some of the other knights dwarfed even Arthur, so he had to rely on his other strengths to win. If it came down to Arthur and Valiant, Merlin wasn’t sure who would win.</p>
<p>Secretly, he wished it would be Arthur. But he’d never admit to it, not even under threat of torture.</p>
<p>Valiant finally left the arena, passing them both by. He had a satisfied smirk on his face, though he was  panting from exhaustion. It was the only thing that could brighten up Merlin’s mood.</p>
<p>“May I offer you my congratulations on your victories today?”</p>
<p>“Likewise,” Arthur replied.</p>
<p>“I’ll see you at the reception this evening. And maybe I’ll see the Lady Morgana. I hear she doesn’t give a dance to the same man twice. Think I might get lucky,” he said. He didn’t wait for Arthur to say anything and left, his squire trailing behind him.</p>
<p>“What a prick,” Merlin said. He hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but knew he did when he heard the snort from Arthur.</p>
<p>Merlin turned to him, giving him a pleased smile, but Arthur quickly covered up his amusement. <em>Really wish he’d stop that. Would be a lot more pleasant to be around if he could openly laugh <strong>with</strong> me, instead of <strong>at</strong> me, for once.</em></p>
<p>“For tomorrow, you need to repair my shield, wash my tunic, sharpen my sword, clean my boots, and…hmm, I’m missing something.”</p>
<p>“Do you need me to scrub your hairbrush or something?” That sounded like a properly ridiculous thing Arthur would demand of him.</p>
<p>“No. That’s not it. Oh, yes! Polish my chainmail.” He clapped Merlin on the shoulder, gave him a condescending smile, and left him standing there with various armor parts.</p>
<p>Merlin sighed.</p>
<p>
  <em>This tourney will never end.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hey y'all!! thanks for being patient! here's the first part to the second chapter. the second part will shortly follow. these chapters are getting so long lol rip me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Five of Swords: Part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hey guys, here's the second part of the second (third?) chapter. i broke it up because i thought it was too long and it would be a good break. also sorry it took so long to put this out, im finishing up this semester of school, so i had some work to do. also i kind of struggled with some parts of this tbh. idk why.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The reception was a more subdued affair than the feast. There were less people invited and was less about merry-making and more about gossiping around the dinner table. Before said dinner could begin, the victorious knights all came up to first greet the king.</p><p>Morgana stood beside Uther, but she barely paid it any mind as she was too busy poking fun at the various knights with Gwen, who admonished her for being mean, but still laughed along anyways.</p><p>Sir Valiant was the next one up and Uther had heaps of praises for him, which Morgana could not disagree with. He was a talented fighter, aggressive in style. She could respect that, the tenacity to keep going to win. However, it wasn’t in her tastes. As much as she liked persistence, in truth she liked people who were softer. She was much too harsh already and Valiant, even with all his charms, seemed even harsher.</p><p>Still, that did not mean she could not flirt a bit, just to see how bothered Arthur got. It appeared he still hadn’t forgiven the knight for his joke and did not take a liking to him. Interestingly, Gwen did not appear to like him much either, so Morgana avoided spending any time with him.</p><p>As he came up to her, she beamed at him.</p><p>“Sir Valiant, may I present Lady Morgana, my ward,” Uther introduced.</p><p>“We’ve met, sire,” the knight said.</p><p>“Oh?” Now this Uther was clearly interested to hear.</p><p>“We danced. At the feast,” Morgana was quick to say. Despite what the other ladies might gossip about her, Morgana was not one to go around making off with random knights. Not that there was anything wrong about that, of course. She just didn’t hold any particular interest for knights.</p><p>“I see. I hope you danced as well as you fought,” Uther replied. His tone was jovial, but held a hint of warning as it usually did. She doubted he was capable of speaking like a normal person.  </p><p>“He danced well, your grace,” she said. “And I would not mind another, should the need arise.”</p><p>“I would not disappoint, my lady,” and he bowed, giving her hand a light kiss. He was careful and polite in his movements, but his eyes burned with hunger. It was one which made Morgana slightly uncomfortable, but she did not show it. She tried to play along. It didn’t matter, anyway, as he’d be gone soon.</p><p>“I saw you competing today,” she said when he didn’t immediately take his hand away.</p><p>“I saw you watching.”</p><p>Morgana said nothing, because it was true. But then, it was true of all the fights. <em>If he wants to feel special,</em> <em>let him. </em>She wasn’t going to stop him, if only to make him leave faster.</p><p>“I take it that the champion will have the honor of escorting you to the feast,” he continued.</p><p>“Yes, that’s correct,” she replied, trying to maintain her smile. <em>Yes, Uther is, in fact, dangling me like a prize fish before all of you. I am nothing more than one thousand gold pieces put together in the shape of a woman. </em></p><p>“Then I will give it my all to win the tournament.”</p><p>
  <em>I hope you do. You’ll still lose.</em>
</p><p>He gave a small bow and left to join the other knights. Morgana watched him go, but he did not turn to look back at her.</p><p>The next knight came then the next, until it was Arthur’s turn. This whole thing was rather a bore, so Morgana decided to make it fun by messing with Arthur.</p><p>“You’ve done well, Arthur,” Uther said. Arthur nodded respectfully and turned to Morgana, face immediately losing all cheer.</p><p>“Morgana.”</p><p>“Arthur.” She turned to look at Valiant, making sure to make a show of admiring him. “I know where I’m placing my bets.” She looked back to Arthur, just in time to see his irritation.</p><p>“Don’t be so eager to part with your coin.”</p><p>“No need to worry. I will be doing no such thing.”</p><p>Arthur gave her a nasty smile, which she returned in kind, and left.</p><p>“You’re not really hoping Valiant would win, are you?” Gwen whispered to her.</p><p>“Of course I am. If only to make Arthur less annoying.”</p><p>Gwen gave a snort, her expression doubtful.</p><p>The other knights continued their procession and she gave them hollow platitudes as usual, barely paying any more mind.</p><p>Gwen stood silently beside her, bearing with the boredom in her own way. Which is to say, she was trying not to laugh at the funny faces Merlin was making at her. At least she had that. Morgana wouldn’t dare give him any attention, lest it brought Uther’s ire upon him, so she made sure her eyes did not stray.</p><p>Despite what Morgana might have insinuated, she truly wagered that Arthur would win. He always won, after all. An upset was always possible, but she couldn’t think otherwise; she didn’t just <em>expect</em> Arthur to win, she <em>needed</em> him to.</p><p> If he won, then she got to go with him to the closing feast. Whatever she thought of Arthur, she much preferred to be escorted by him rather than some random knight she barely knew. It was one thing to ask, but another to be forced to attend with someone all because they won some stupid game.</p><p>It was more than that, though. She could speak with Arthur plainly and even get him to gossip a bit. They grew up together, so he was known to her. He was…<em>safe</em>. She knew what to expect with him. But a knight like Valiant? She does not know what he wanted from her, truly. Was it attention? A kiss? More?</p><p>She shuddered at the thought.</p><p>No, Arthur must win and then she will have no further worries.</p><hr/><p>Merlin had <em>chores</em>. So, he went to the armory to grab Arthur’s armor. When he entered, it was empty of people, but filled to the brim with shields and weapons and armors of all sorts.</p><p>He imagine it as some sort of magical wonderland for knights. As he approached the armor, he was distracted by a sudden hissing. It was so strange and unexpected, that it gave him pause. He started moving slowly closer to the source of the sound, walking until he reached a particular shield, yellow with three green snakes all coiled together.</p><p>He got down to get a closer look, curious to see how the sound was being made and for a second he thought he saw one of the snake’s eyes blink. He startled a bit, then looked closer, trying to see if it’d really happened or if he was just imagining things again.</p><p>He reached out with a hand, wanting to touch it, to feel if it was magic, but a sword stopped any possibility of that.</p><p>Merlin looked up at the sword-bearer, seeing that it was Valiant, out of his usual armor. He was holding his sword pointed at Merlin’s chest, his look mean. The armory allowed in little light and he was standing in the shadows, face hidden.</p><p>Out of the armor, he looked more like a bandit than a knight.</p><p>“Can I help you with something, boy?” he asked, voice not very helpful.</p><p>“No,” Merlin replied, breath coming fast as adrenaline soared through his veins. His magic was on edge as well, rearing to lash out at something, anything. “I’m good.”</p><p>He tried to give a smile, seeming completely unthreatening.</p><p>“I-I was just gathering my master’s armor.”</p><p>The sword was still pointed at him, but he was farther away now, having scooted back from Valiant. It rose, then went down, but the knight did not sheath it.</p><p>“You best be on your way, then. Don’t want to be <em>late</em>.” He said it calmly, but it did nothing to soothe Merlin. The man’s being radiated danger and he did not want to be stuck in a room with said man, so he picked up the armor pieces and ran out.</p><p> </p><p>Arthur had been quite impressed with his polishing and cleaning, but what he didn’t know was that it was all possible due to magic. Gaius had scolded him on using it so brashly and for such a foolish purpose, but Merlin thought it was perfectly justified. How the hell else was he supposed to do all that in less than a day?</p><p>The fights began once more in the morning. It was the third and final day of the one-on-ones. Apparently they were to be followed by two days of archery. The winner archer would take five hundred gold pieces. The joust, having been ended, had already announced a winner, but Merlin had paid no mind to all that.</p><p>His main concern was the fights Arthur was in, though he’d never tell you that. Arthur needed no concern. Or luck, for that matter. The favor stayed on, but Merlin doubted it actually did anything to help; the man was clearly skilled enough to win on his own merit. But Merlin would never say such a thing to Arthur’s face lest his head grew too big to fit through doorways.</p><p>Arthur ran out to the arena and Merlin couldn’t help but smile at the cheering crowd. He was accosted by Gaius, who accused him of “enjoying himself”, which Merlin denied a bit before admitting that the fighting wasn’t all bad. Arthur had taken on his opponents with grace and ease, though they had been more difficult to beat than the earlier ones. The knights fighting this round were tougher, better. These fights were more prolonged, lasting for ten, fifteen minutes. One had even gone on to be half an hour, though Arthur didn’t partake in that one. Mostly it was so long because both parties were on the defensive and were reluctant to strike first.</p><p> It got boring quick. Arthur was clearly bored too, because he didn’t even offer any counter to Merlin’s complaints. Merlin took the silence to mean agreement.</p><p>The fight following that one was much more dynamic. The yellow knight, Valiant, versus the purple knight, Sir Ewan. He would’ve made a comment about complementary nature of the colors and how metaphorical this all was, but Arthur probably wouldn’t appreciate it, seeing as he was an uncultured brute.</p><p>Merlin was no expert, but the fight looked rough. The purple knight was knocked to the ground, his helmet rolled away, and he tried to hold on, but Valiant won out in the end. He was a strong fighter, Merlin could see, but he also seemed to take things a bit too far. The purple knight couldn’t even get up.</p><p>Valiant paid no mind to the injured knight and paraded around the arena, taking in the crowd’s cheers. Once he was sated, he walked back, passing by Arthur and Merlin, though he spared no thought for Merlin.</p><p>Gaius had run out to help the knight and Arthur gave Merlin a nod, so he ran out after him to help. The poor knight could barely move and his breathing was harsh. But the fight had been quick and brutal, so that was expected.</p><p>After that, the king called a recess. They would take the afternoon to eat and recuperate and then the final fight would ensue.</p><p>Merlin rushed back to Arthur to help him out of his armor and to get him a meal, but the man waved him off, telling him he didn’t require his services. So, Merlin went to the Physician’s Chambers to see how the purple knight was doing.</p><p>It appeared, not well.</p><p>“Look here, Merlin. See these wounds?” he asked, looking closely at the man’s neck. Merlin came to stand by him and noticed two strange prick wounds, like that of a bite. Perhaps a dog had bitten him? But no, these looked fresh. “It looks like a snakebite.”</p><p>“A snakebite? But when’d he have time to get bitten?”</p><p>“I can’t say, but all his symptoms, slow pulse, fever, paralysis, seem in tune with a poison. I would say that Sir Valiant’s sword was rubbed with poison, but I found no sword wound on his body, only the strange bite.”</p><p>“Can you heal him?”</p><p>“I can, if I can make an antidote. But for that I’d need to know what poisoned him in the first place and get my hands on it. Luckily this is just some common poison, but if it truly is a snakebite, then…that would be a significant problem.”</p><p> “<em>Significant</em> is an understatement, Gaius. How the <em>hell</em> am I to find a bloody snake around here?” And then he sat up, chair falling away and clattering to the ground. “That’s it! Oh Gaius, you bloody genius!”</p><p>And he rushed out, not waiting for another word.</p><p>He needed to find the bloody shield. He was sure that was it! It must be. The first place to check would be the armory and that’s exactly where he went. However, the shield wasn’t there. And if it wasn’t there, it must be by Valiant’s side. If it was indeed a magical artifact, he probably wouldn’t let it lie around unprotected. So, he went to the chambers Valiant was staying in next.</p><p>As he approached them, he noticed the knight out and about, walking with the shield. No one else was there. As Merlin followed him, he spied the knight make his way into his chambers. Standing by the door, he peaked in and saw the man take out a living mouse, holding it by the tail as it squirmed and squeaked.</p><p>Merlin could only wince in agony and tried not to rush in to stop it. He watched as Valiant approached the shield with the mouse and the three coiled snakes on the shield suddenly came forth. They were no longer a painting, but live snakes, all hungry.</p><p>He couldn’t watch, he just couldn’t, so he ran. But, blast his clumsiness, he made a sound and he knew that the Valiant heard it. He had shit luck and wasted no time on begging and pleading with it. He didn’t run far, but hid behind a column and waited for him to pass by and go on further away.</p><p>Valiant stayed near, searching, then moved on farther down the hall, chasing shadows.</p><p>Merlin saw his opportunity and booked it. Not back to Gaius, oh no. No, his legs carried him back to Valiant’s chambers where his shield was sitting, perfectly still. The painting was the same as ever.</p><p>Merlin approached it with caution and reached out, trying to get it to come to life. Waving a hand at it did not work. Flicking the shield with a finger did not work, either.</p><p>There must be some way to animate them, some spell which brought them to life, but he didn’t know it. He could use a mouse to lure them out, but the only one was already eaten.</p><p>He turned away just for a second.</p><p>That was all it took for the snakes to come alive and jump out at him. His magic warned him before anything else in his body did. He lashed out and one of the snakes was left headless. The others, seeing the danger, reared back, hissing in warning. He quickly grabbed the head of the dead snake and ran for his life.</p><p> </p><p>He did not encounter Valiant again.</p><p>When he got to the Physician’s Quarters, he immediately presented the snake head and Gaius only blinked in surprise before he got to work.</p><p>Merlin watched him work, curious to see how antivenoms were made. The knight lay in sleep and Merlin came to sit next to him to wipe his sweat away and make him drink some water.</p><p>Just when things were quiet and settled, they had to be disturbed. And the disturber of peace was none other than Arthur Pendragon. <em>Of course.</em></p><p>“Arthur-”</p><p>“I can see you’re very busy, Merlin, but in case you’ve forgot, you’re still my servant. And that means showing up on time to do your duties! The fights are about to start up again and I need to get into my armor!”</p><p>
  <em>So he couldn’t find somebody else to do it?</em>
</p><p>“I don’t think the fights <em>should</em> start up again,” Merlin said.</p><p>“Just because you don’t like them, doesn’t mean-”</p><p>“No, Arthur, it’s not about that!”</p><p>“I don’t have time for this, Merlin!” He turned, ready to stomp away, but Merlin stopped him.</p><p>“Would you not be an arse for a second and just look?”</p><p>Arthur looked beyond indignant, but Merlin ignored his outraged offense and pointed to Sir Ewan’s neck.</p><p>“What am I looking at?” he asked, voice dispassionate.</p><p>“Look <em>closer</em>. Don’t you see? It’s a bite mark. Gaius is just making the antivenom.”</p><p>“So you’re telling me you want to stop the fights because the arena is infested with snakes?”</p><p>Merlin sighed, exasperated. But then he perked up.</p><p>“Well, I suppose you’re not <em>totally</em> off the mark, even if you are correct more in the metaphorical sense than the literal.”</p><p>“Merlin?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“What in the god’s green earth are you bloody talking about?”</p><p>“There is only one snake in our midst and his name is Valiant.”</p><p>“Valiant? You’re saying Valiant is, what, some sort of cheat?”</p><p>“Not just any sort. He’s using magic.”</p><p>Arthur inhaled sharply, eyes growing hard. “That’s a serious accusation, Merlin. Especially coming from a servant against a knight.”</p><p>“I know. But I have proof.”</p><p>Arthur raised a brow and turned to Gaius. “You think it’s valid?”</p><p>“Of course it’s valid!” Merlin said, offended that it even needed to be asked. Arthur paid him no mind, eyes trained on Gaius.</p><p>“Well, sire, we’ll have to wait for Sir Ewan to wake so he could give his testimony. But even so, we’ve got some evidence that could be used in trial.”</p><p>“Good. I’ll make sure to notify the king, then.”</p><p>He turned without another word and left, leaving Merlin slightly irritated, but also pleased that <em>something</em> will be done.</p><p>“Does no one take my word for it around here?”</p><p>“You’re a servant, Merlin. So no.”</p><p>He sighed.</p><hr/><p>Arthur’s journey back to the arena was met with an anxious squire, twisting his hands together and looking harried.</p><p>
  <em>Father must have “spoken” to him. Poor boy.</em>
</p><p>“Ah! Prince Arthur, you’re-”</p><p>“I’m late, I know. I had something important to tend to.”</p><p>“Important?”</p><p>“I will announce it once we get to the arena.”</p><p>“O-of course, sire.”</p><p>They walked together in silence, with the squire a few steps behind. It was strange to him, seeing as he was used to Merlin walking beside him. And the fact he was already used to it disturbed him even more.</p><p>Once they made it to the arena, Arthur walked straight to his father, ignoring the knight waiting to fight him. Arthur paid no mind to the confusion of the crowd and gestured for his father to come forward. Father’s eyes narrowed, wary as he usually was, but walked down anyway. He left the seats and stepped onto the arena, away from the crowds.</p><p>“What is the meaning of this, Arthur?”</p><p>“You need to call these fights off. We suspect there’s magic involved here.”</p><p>“<em>We</em>?”</p><p>“Gaius is the one who informed me. There’s some proof that one of the knights is cheating.”</p><p>“Do you know who it is specifically?”</p><p>“I’ve got a suspicion.”</p><p>He raised a brow, silently asking Arthur to go on.</p><p>“Valiant.”</p><p>“Valiant? Arthur,” he said, smiling. “I know he’s a tough opponent, but there’s no need to make such spurious claims.”</p><p>“They’re not spurious, father! Sir Ewan is lying unconscious, slowly dying of snake venom.”</p><p>“That’s not possible. He was cut down by Valiant.”</p><p>“I saw the bite. On his neck. It was fresh. Gaius is making the antidote as we speak. Once he administers it, the knight can give his testimony.”</p><p>“You’re really sure of this?”</p><p>“I am.”</p><p>“Then you’re willing to make a public accusation?”</p><p>“I am.”</p><p>His father sighed and looked away, like he was preparing for the worst.</p><p>“Alright then.” He turned to the crowd and his voice boomed to hush the whispers. “This tournament, as of now, is temporarily halted.”</p><p>The crowds grew louder, confusion and upset mixing together.</p><p>“I know this is quite unorthodox, but I assure you they will resume. It appears there is a snake in our midst.”</p><p>Now the crowds were curious, all turning and watching each other.</p><p>“I accuse Sir Valiant of using sorcery to cheat in the fights,” Arthur boomed out. The other knights had gathered to see what the ruckus was all about and Valiant had walked up to Arthur from where he’d been waiting on the other side of the arena.</p><p>“What’s the meaning of this?” he hissed.</p><p>“I think you know,” Arthur replied darkly. The man didn’t react visibly, but he saw his eyes flash in anger. “If you’ve got nothing to hide, then I imagine a trial won’t be much hassle for you.”</p><p>“Of course not,” the knight grit out. “Anything to keep Camelot safe.” His smile was rigid, fake. But he could also simply be angry at a false accusation. Arthur was prepared to apologize if need be, but something in his gut told him he was right.</p><p>“Well then,” his father said, “I suppose this calls for a change in scenery.”</p><p> </p><p>In the throne room, they all stood and waited for Gaius. The man came stumbling in a few minutes later, looking a bit hassled.</p><p>“The antidote has been administered. He should wake soon.”</p><p>Arthur kept a close eye on Valiant. He looked a bit spooked by Gaius’s words. Or was that only wishful thinking?</p><p>“And once he wakes, he can give his testimony as to what he saw during his fight with Sir Valiant,” the king finished. The advisors in the room all tittered, discussing these events amongst themselves. Or maybe not? Who knew, maybe they didn’t give much of a shit about all this. But he did see some of them give him a look. It’s like they thought he was catching his father’s anti-magic paranoia, making mountains out of molehills. He gave them dirty looks.</p><p>He wasn’t doing this casually, at the expense of his own reputation, for nothing.</p><p>“Yes, sire,” Gaius said. “My assistant will bring him here.” <em>Hopefully Sir Ewan will be lucid enough to give a good testimony. If not, he’ll be discounted and then I’ll have nothing but the word of a servant.</em></p><p>So, they moved on to the other proofs.</p><p>“So. In which manner did this happen? You mention a snake bite.”</p><p>“Yes, I believe it’s the shield, sire. Sir Valiant’s shield has three snakes on it.”</p><p>“Three <em>painted</em> snakes. You say they come to life and bite other knights?” he asked, voice incredulous. Which was quite unfair, seeing as magic was capable of all sorts of strange and seemingly impossible things. This man had witnessed a woman transform before his eyes and he doubted someone could enchant some dinky little shield?</p><p>“I suppose so. I imagine it’s some special word or phrase that must be uttered to activate it.”</p><p>King Uther turned the shield in his arms, turning it this way and that, as though he could spot a sign of magic somewhere on it. Arthur wasn’t an expert, but he doubted it worked like that.</p><p>Valiant remained silent throughout all this, not offering up any defense. Perhaps he knew there was no need, or perhaps he was afraid to sound guilty. Whatever the reason, he simply stood and watched the proceedings calmly.</p><p>A little too calmly.</p><p>Gaius also presented the strange snake head. It was large and had strange markings on it, unlike any Arthur had ever seen. His father looked at it with a shrewd eye, seemingly becoming a bit more convinced.</p><p>Valiant looked unbothered.</p><p>And finally, the doors opened.</p><hr/><p>Merlin was tending to the knight, watching his breathing raptly. He was so distracted he did not hear the door creak open. The movement of the figure from the corner of his eye finally caught his attention and he tensed, ready to…to what? Attack?</p><p>It wasn’t necessary. The figure in question was the knight in light green, the young one who’d broken his arm falling off his horse.</p><p>“Oh, hello! Sorry, I was a bit, um…Anyway! Did you need something? Gaius isn’t here, but I can assist you if-”</p><p>“Oh, no. No, I don’t need anything. I just wanted to stop by and give my thanks to you.”</p><p>“Whatever for?”</p><p>“For helping me out. With this,” he said, gesturing with his arm.</p><p>“Oh that? That was nothing. Besides, Gaius did most of the work anyway.”</p><p>“Still, I wanted to thank you. I was in too much pain at the time to pay much attention, I’m afraid,” he said in a sheepish way, like he was embarrassed. “So, thank you, er, Merlin, was it?”</p><p>“Yes,” he replied a bit dumbly. “And you are?” He almost cringed. That came out so rude and imperious.</p><p>“I am Sir Sigeweard of House Lynn. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”</p><p>Well, strange name, but Merlin couldn’t exactly judge. And he was being very cordial and respectable, which Merlin usually abhorred, but something about this knight was pleasant. His manners did not grate on Merlin. In fact, he might even say he was a tad bit charmed.</p><p>“Likewise,” he replied, putting out his hand to shake. The knight looked down at it, then up at Merlin. Merlin, realizing he was an idiot, pushed his hand behind his head instead, smoothing down imaginary stray hairs. Sigeweard smirked at him.</p><p>“I’m sorry for your loss,” he added, because he was a tad bit of an arsehole and he was genuinely sorry.</p><p>“Ah, well. It’s not the first time, I’m afraid.”</p><p>“Oh? You’ve been in other tourneys?”</p><p>“Yep. Since I was sixteen.”</p><p>“How long have you been training then?”</p><p>“Oh, since about I was thirteen, I think. So that makes it seven years, give or take.”</p><p>“Seven?” Merlin couldn’t help but let out. If that were true then…</p><p>“Yep. Seven years of training and I still haven’t won. I’m quite the disappointment, you see. Father had placed his bets on this one being my first actual win, but here we are.”</p><p>Merlin could only stare at him, blinking only a few times.</p><p>“Merlin?” he asked, looking a bit concerned.</p><p>“Right. Sorry. It’s just…how do I put it. You look-”</p><p>“Like a child?”</p><p>“Um. I wasn’t going to say…that.”</p><p>Sigeweard snorted. “It’s alright. I get it all the time, I’m afraid. You should see me try to speak with ladies. They all coo at me like I’m a toddler, saying how cute my flirting is, but <em>they’re afraid they’re too old for me</em>.”</p><p>The picture he painted was unfortunately funny, but Merlin was trying his best not to be a little shit so he desperately held his laughter.</p><p>“It’s alright. You can laugh, I won’t get upset.”</p><p>“No, no. It’s not funny. Not at all,” he said, barely getting through it before bursting out into laughter. Sigeweard joined in, trying not to jostle his own arm. “Sorry, gods I am <em>so</em> sorry. Your life sounds terrible.”</p><p>“Well at least I’m not the prince’s servant.”</p><p>“Ugh. Don’t remind me.”</p><p>“I don’t mean to pry, but I overheard you, er, <em>speaking</em> with him. I was a bit taken aback at how…honest you were.”</p><p>It was Merlin’s turn to snort. “Honest. Yeah, that’s one way of putting it. Another would be ‘rude’.”</p><p>“Does he not punish you for such speech?”</p><p>“Not usually. Unless you count making me do more chores as punishment. Otherwise, he usually gives back as good as he takes. Arthur’s a big boy, he can handle a bit of banter.”</p><p>“I did not realize Camelot was such a liberal place that it allowed its servants to call the prince by his name,” he said, though he didn’t sound like he was judging, merely curious.</p><p>“Well, I suppose it’s just me, really.”</p><p>“You must be special then.”</p><p>Merlin snorted again and crossed his arms.</p><p>“Uh-huh. Yeah, I’m special alright,” he mumbled under his breath. “I guess I’m just used to him, you know? I don’t really see the need to impress someone who’s socks I’ve had to clean.”</p><p>“Well you’ve been quite respectful to me so far. Is it because you haven’t washed my socks? Or because you want to impress me?” He asked it with a smirk on his face, playful and teasing. Merlin wasn’t sure how to take it.</p><p>“Erm, well,” he began. But, he was saved from answering the question when the injured knight started breathing deeply. Merlin rushed to him, seeing that the man was stirring on the cot, eyes fluttering open.</p><p>“Merlin,” he gasped. “I…bite.”</p><p>“Bite?”</p><p>“Snake,” he said. He was sweating bullets, running a terrible fever. His eyes were glassy and his breathing was getting faster and shallower, like he’d been running.</p><p>“Oh no. No, no, no. Hang in there. Uh. Gaius! I need Gaius. And the antivenom. Shit.” He ran around the chamber, trying to find the antivenom that Gaius had made before. He found the jar, but not the contents; it was unfortunately empty. They’d used it all up. And they had no time to make more. They needed more venom and to get that, he’d need to get Valiant’s shield.</p><p>“Sigeweard, go find Gaius, now!”</p><p>But Sigeweard made no move to leave.</p><p>“Sigeweard?” he asked. The man was looking down at Sir Ewan, face saddened and eyes filled with grief and terror.</p><p>“Merlin, he’s…”</p><p>“But. But then...<em>No</em>.”</p><p>“He’s gone.”</p><p>“<em>No! </em>He can’t be! He can’t! We gave him the antidote! He was going to recover and prove that Valiant cheated and…”</p><p>He breathed deeply, like he himself had been running. Sigeweard picked up the covers on Sir Ewan’s bed and put them over his head, covering him.</p><p>If he was gone, then they had no witness. And no witness meant there was no proof, beyond the snake head. Valiant would get away with murder with none the wiser.</p><p>He returned to the hall with a heavy heart, his steps pounding on the ground. Each step rung out like a death knell, and became harder and harder to walk as he approached the throne room. The doors opened, showing him a room of various men looking out at him, eagerly awaiting the news.</p><p>He looked to Arthur, who was expectant and confident. But Merlin felt nothing of the sort.</p><p>“Merlin? Where’s Sir Ewan?”</p><p>“He. He’s…passed. Dead, sire.” Merlin couldn’t even meet his eyes. The crowd in the hall gasped. Gaius went to Merlin, ready to provide comfort.</p><p>“That is quite the convenience, boy. It seems you have no witness and no proof. Do you still hold the accusation, Arthur?”</p><p>Merlin did not see what Arthur felt, but he heard his cold and hard words. “No, your grace. I withdraw my accusation.”</p><p>“And you will apologize to this fair knight.”</p><p>“Yes, of course.” Arthur, now that Merlin was looking, turned to Valiant and looked him in the eye. “I apologize, Sir Valiant, for my spurious accusation. It was my mistake to put trust in a mere servant.”</p><p>“I accept,” he  replied easily. “And I forgive your servant, too.”</p><p>“The boy will receive proper punishment, have no doubt of that,” Uther assured. Merlin paled further.</p><p>“Please, sire,” Valiant said. “There is no need. It was only an honest mistake. He wanted to help his master win. Perhaps he doubted his skills upon seeing me fight?”</p><p>“Is this true, Arthur? Were you having doubts? Did you use this as a ploy to cheat?!” His voice rose after every word, disbelieving outrage writ on his face.</p><p>“No, of course not, father! I would never and have never done such a thing! I truly believed a wrong was done here. And now Sir Ewan is dead…”</p><p>“Yes. You’re right about that, at least. A knight is dead. This must be investigated, but more importantly, we must pay respects to the dead and grieve. I will postpone this fight till tomorrow. Spend this evening getting your wits together.” This last part was seemingly aimed at Arthur.</p><p>The king had nothing else to say and court was dismissed.</p><hr/><p>Merlin followed after Arthur, but only after he escorted Gaius back to his chambers to observe Sir Ewan’s body.</p><p>Upon entering the prince’s chambers, Merlin was greeted with the sad sight of Arthur staring down at the fire burning bright in the fire place. He was standing, his whole body tense and looking ready to spring at any moment. His face was harsh, a cold expression.</p><p>He seemed deep in thought and Merlin thought perhaps he had not noticed his arrival, but he suddenly spoke up.</p><p>“You humiliated me.” His voice was soft, accompanying the gentle crackle of the wood in the fireplace.</p><p>Merlin didn’t know what to say.</p><p>“I trusted you. I took your word. And you humiliated me. In front of the court, the advisers, my father.”</p><p>“Arthur-”</p><p>“No!” He turned to face Merlin, his face no longer cold. Now, his expression was a fiery rage. He’d never seen Arthur like this before. For all his insults and his acting out, the prince had never been truly angry. Merlin realizes now that it was all for play.</p><p>He’s grateful he had not seen it before. And he wishes he could not see it now. Arthur took a few deep breaths before continuing on in a much calmer manner.</p><p>“Leave. And don’t come back. I no longer require your services.”</p><p>Merlin stood mutely, completely struck. For a few seconds, he didn’t know what to do or say or think. But his mental faculties seemed to light up once more and he felt a sudden surge of anger.</p><p>He didn’t do that which he most desired at the moment, which was to shout at the prince. Instead, he gave his most respectful bow and silently left the room without a glance back.</p><p>He stomped all the way back to his own room, ignoring Gaius completely as he loudly shut his door.</p><p>He paced back and forth, trying to dispel the energy.</p><p>When that failed, he sat on his bed, arms crossed and turned away from the door. There was something digging into his thigh and he picked it up without looking to see what the offending object was.</p><p>Then, to prove just how angry he was, he threw it at the wall, only realizing too late that it was the tome Gaius had assigned him to read. He could stand to not ever read another word of it, but the tome was not cheap, carefully crafted by some old master.</p><p>He rushed off the bed. The book lay on the ground, looking pathetic with its pages splayed open and defenseless.</p><p>“Merlin!” he heard from somewhere beyond his door. He winced and tried to quickly, but carefully, pick the tome up. As he was checking it over, the door creaked open behind him. He heard a sigh and Gaius say, “Your room’s a right mess, boy.”</p><p>Merlin’s jaw clenched.</p><p>“Wouldn’t be such a mess if I had the time to clean it! Which, I suppose I have plenty of now.”</p><p>“Merlin?” he heard, this time closer. He turned slightly, seeing Gaius’s robes sweep the ground next to him. The man took a seat on his bed, huffing at having to stoop so low. Merlin was turned to him, but refused to meet his eye.</p><p>“Arthur fired me,” he said. Arthur fired him and Merlin was angry. He was angry at Arthur. He was angry at himself.</p><p>“Oh, Merlin,” Gaius said kindly. He put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder, trying his best to comfort. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I am a bit confused. One would think you’d be jumping for joy now. But you seem upset.”</p><p>Merlin snorted. Yeah, he was upset. And what was the point? This is what he’d wanted, even goaded Arthur into it. He’d tried so hard to get on his nerves, to do wrong everything he possibly could. He snarked and he insulted him in public. All things that qualified him for a firing. And yet, despite the constant unfettered annoyance, Arthur did not rid himself of Merlin. He even seemed amused at times, like they were both playing some game and knew it. Though what sort of game Arthur had been playing, Merlin does not know and will never know.</p><p>And now his life was seriously in danger and he thought Merlin was just trying to fuck with him.</p><p>“I’m really stupid.”</p><p>“You’re not stupid, Merlin. You’re just young. And young people have a tendency to be foolish.” At this, Merlin finally looked up and was met with Gaius’s Brow. He couldn’t help but let a smile peak through.</p><p>Gaius returned it. “Now, tell me what this is all about. What did you do?”</p><p>“It’s not what I did do, but rather what I didn’t.” Merlin held the tome to his chest, folding in on himself. “I couldn’t prove that Valiant’s shield is enchanted. I made Arthur look a fool in front of everyone, including his father. Now he thinks I did it on purpose so he’d fire me.”</p><p>“Oh, Merlin,” Gaius repeated. Merlin, very wisely, said nothing. “So what will you do now?”</p><p>He shrugged. “What is there to do? I’m no longer his manservant. I suppose I can just keep assisting you.”</p><p>“Not that, you silly boy! I meant about Valiant! Arthur might not have believed you, but both you and I have seen the evidence. Arthur’s meant to fight the man tomorrow and if he does so, he might just die.”</p><p>“So?” Merlin asked, but he was well aware he sounded like a petulant child.</p><p>“You don’t mean that.”</p><p>He sighed. “No, I don’t. You’re right, Gaius. I’ve got to stop Valiant somehow. But he knows I’m on to him, he’ll be on edge. I can’t make a move now.”</p><p>“No, I’m afraid you can’t.”</p><p>“Then what do I do?”</p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p>“You don’t know.” Merlin wasn’t impressed.</p><p>“My expertise is in <em>healing</em> people, not fighting them!”</p><p>“Well then, I suppose I’ll just have to come up with something on my own. I’ve got until tomorrow, right? So that gives me the evening and all of night to try to come up with something.”</p><p>The odds were not in his favor.</p><p>Gaius gave him a good-luck pat and got up, bones creaking, to leave the room. Merlin, remembering he was clutching a tome of spells, had the inkling of an idea beginning its birth.</p><p> </p><p>Merlin’s brilliant idea had been, of course, magic. A wise man might say you shouldn’t fight fire with fire, but Merlin never claimed any possession of wisdom.</p><p>So, rooting through his book of spells, he tried to find something that might help. Most of the spells, while useful in general, were completely unnecessary in this predicament.</p><p>Feeling restless, he shucked the book under his bed and leapt out of his room. Gaius was out at the moment, and checking the window to see the sun still up, Merlin decided he needed a walk. He needed inspiration and what better way to get it than to smell the delightful stale air of Camelot and take in the sights of dirty sweaty people running about.</p><p>He walked through the castle halls, passing by tapestries and decorations of armor.</p><p>None had given him any ideas so far.</p><p>He made it out onto the courtyard and sat on the steps, trying to look around and see if anything jumped out at him.</p><p>He was so engrossed in his search that he missed the light footsteps approaching him. A shadow fell over him and he jerked in his seat, his nerves singing. When he turned and saw Gwen watching him with worry in her eyes, he let out a large sigh.</p><p>He’d been convinced it was Arthur, come to finish Merlin off.</p><p>“You alright there?” Gwen asked.</p><p>“Oh, well. Let’s see. I discovered a knight is cheating using magic and will probably kill Arthur with it. I tried to warn Arthur, but it went all to shit and now I’m prince-less. So. Peachy. Just peachy.”</p><p>“You were let go?”</p><p>“Yup! I’ve got lots of free time now! But the knight still wants to murder the crowned prince of Camelot.”</p><p>“What will you do?”</p><p>“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. The knight in question is aware I know, but Arthur and the king don’t believe it. I’m on my own on this one.”</p><p>“You’re not on your own, Merlin.”</p><p>He turned to her.</p><p>“I believe you. And so does Morgana, I’m sure. And Gaius! We’ve all got your back.”</p><p>“Thanks, Gwen.” </p><p>The girl smiled and left him to it.</p><p>Now he just needed to figure out how to turn something not real into something real. A painting, a tapestry, a sculpture.</p><p>One caught his eye. The dog. But it was large and probably weighed it, too, so Merlin decided to let it stay where it was. He needed something small, something he could take with him to his room.</p><p>And that’s when it hit him.</p><p>His tomes had plenty of pictures of real things like flowers and plants. If he could use a spell to bring them forth to life, perhaps the same could work on the shield? Feeling inspired, Merlin raced back to his room and searched for a decent picture in one of his accumulating tomes. Then, he paged through his spell book, trying to find a spell that would do what he desired.</p><p>And there it was, sitting on the page he’d randomly flipped to.</p><p>
  <em>Bebiede þe arisan cwicum.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He sat on his bed, moon shining down through the windows as he tried over and over to get the spell to work.</p><p>He was so distracted that he hadn’t heard the door to the royal physician’s chambers open. When he heard the voice speaking to Gaius, he chucked his book (of magic spells) under his bed and hoped to all the gods no one would look there.</p><p>Curiosity got the better of him, as it was wont to do, and he decided to go up to the door and take a quick peak through the keyhole.</p><p>He saw nothing at first, but then a flash of expensive robes passed by.</p><p>“What was it you wanted to show me, Gaius?”</p><p>It was the king. Only a few feet away from his <em>magical book</em>.</p><p>“Look here, sire. See this? He has two sets of the same bite, one on the neck and one on the wrist. I treated the one on the neck and gave him antivenom. He should’ve been cured, but then this new bite showed up. I wasn’t there to see, but Merlin claimed the knight said he was bitten again. It does seem make sense, given his symptoms prior to death. I also had no more antivenom to spare and so he perished. It really is all my fault.”</p><p>Merlin looked away. The true fault did not lie in any way with Gaius. It was all Merlin. It was Merlin who didn’t take proper care of a patient, Merlin who made Arthur look like a fool. He always tries to help and always makes things worse. Maybe he shouldn’t even be trying now? Maybe he should just let things play out as they would?</p><p>“You trust this boy to tell the truth?”</p><p>“Yes, sire. I have no reason to doubt him.”</p><p>“Perhaps your affections cloud your judgement.”</p><p>“<em>Please</em>. I have the proof of what he says. Besides, I am perhaps not the only one who’s judgement is clouded.”</p><p>“Pardon?”</p><p>“You respect Sir Valiant. You think he’s an outstanding knight. And he is, on his own merits. But that does not mean he’s incapable of treachery. Appearances <em>can</em> be deceiving.”</p><p>“Yes, I’m well aware,” the king said, his voice drier than Merlin had ever heard it. In the moment, he almost sounded like Arthur. Or was it the other way around? “Regardless, I am asking you to keep this quiet for now. I will let things go as usual and see what tomorrow brings. If Valiant indeed attempts to use magic, he will be swiftly tried and Arthur’s standing restored.”</p><p>It seemed like the king actually wanted magic to be involved, for once, if only to make his son look good.</p><p>Merlin had no trouble helping in that department. He sort of owed Arthur that much, at least.</p><p>“I understand, sire. We don’t want to cause unnecessary international incidents.”</p><p>The king snorted and Merlin was surprised he allowed himself to sound so undignified.</p><p>From what Merlin could tell, he was looking around the chambers.</p><p>“Where is that boy anyways?”</p><p>“Merlin? He’s asleep, most like. The day has been stressful for him, what with witnessing a death before our eyes. It’s never easy, the first time a patient dies.”</p><p>“Mmm. I remember the first time I was in a real battle, leading a group of knights. So many died that day, all because I was a fool. But we all must learn, eventually.”</p><p>“Yes, sire.”</p><hr/><p>On the night before his fight with Valiant, Arthur received a surprising visitor.</p><p>He looked up from his desk at Morgana, who stood before him with an unreadable expression on her face.</p><p>“May I help you?” he finally asked, tired of the silence.</p><p>“No,” she answered. “But then, I doubt anyone can.”</p><p>He snorted. “Yes, I don’t believe a healer exists in all the land that can fix your affliction,” he said, voice teasing. Her expression, however, was stricken instead of irritated as he was expecting.</p><p>He wanted to ask what was wrong, to tell her he hadn’t meant anything by it, but she interrupted any possibility of that.</p><p>“I had another dream.”</p><p>Arthur leaned against his desk, heaving a deep sigh.</p><p>“I told you-”</p><p>“And I’m telling <em>you</em>! To listen!” she shouted. Her eyes were fiery, expression incensed. She was genuinely furious and not willing to be patient with Arthur. The lack of presumed sleep probably didn’t help.  </p><p>He held his hands up.</p><p>“Valiant is dangerous.”</p><p>“I know that.”</p><p>“He doesn’t just want to win. He wants to destroy you.”</p><p>“Well, he needs no help there. Merlin did that all on his own.”</p><p>“He was only trying to help you.”</p><p>“He dishonored me!” the vehemence in his voice was as surprising to him as it was to Morgana. “This is what he wanted all along. He didn’t want to be my servant and he didn’t want to simply quit. <em>No</em>, he had to go and humiliate me to…to, I dunno, teach me a lesson.”</p><p>“Do you feel like you need to be taught a lesson?”</p><p>“Morgana, I don’t have time for your mind games.”</p><p>“They’re not mind games. I’m trying to understand.”</p><p>When he looked up at her she looked so damned earnest that he couldn’t help but take her seriously.</p><p>“I admit, I hadn’t been the nicest to him. But I didn’t think much of it. I don’t ever think about anything,” he said bitterly. He’d gone and made himself look a fool. More than anyone, he was angry at himself. And a small part of him was angry at his father, too. Valiant had said not a word in his own defense and got out of the trial scot-free. A man was dead because of him. And another might join tomorrow.</p><p>“He may have been upset with you, but do you really think Merlin of all people would do something like this to you?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” he said, even though he perfectly well did.</p><p>“This <em>is</em> the boy who gave you a favor, after all.”</p><p>“What! <em>You</em>! How did you know? You weren’t supposed to – oh, he told, didn’t he? That little toad, I’ll-”</p><p>“He didn’t say a word of it. He didn’t have to. It was all quite obvious to me.”</p><p>Arthur snorted. “Oh, well of course it was. How could I forget you have such a big head and a big brain. You must know everything.”</p><p>“I do,” she replied smugly. Arthur rolled his eyes.</p><p>“So? Is there anything else you want to enlighten me on?”</p><p>“I only came to warn you. And ask that you be careful.”</p><p>“Didn’t know you cared. I was under the impression you wanted Valiant to win. Why the sudden change of heart?”</p><p>“Oh, there was no change in anything. I only did all that to bother you.”</p><p>“Of course, you did.”</p><p>“Well, I’ll leave you to your moping. Sweet dreams.”</p><p>“I’d offer you the same, but I think you’d prefer not to dream at all.”</p><p>“You know, you can awfully observant when you put your mind to it.”</p><p>Arthur had not time to even prepare a response.</p><p>She swept out of his chambers, leaving nothing behind, like some ghost who was never even there. Arthur was, again, alone in his chambers and it was palpable now, how much <em>space</em> Merlin took up. He was slight, but his personality was big and bright. He could outmatch the sun in his cheer.</p><p>But then, he was just as capable of being vicious.</p><p>And once again, Arthur doubted himself.</p><p>Did he do it all on purpose?</p><p>And then he’d come to the conclusion that he hadn’t, then cycle back again. And this continued well into the night until he drifted off into fitful sleep as his desk.</p><p> </p><p>The final day, the final fight was here. The sky was clouded over, turning the morning gray and dark. It seemed ready to rain at any moment.</p><p>That’s just what he needed in this fight, rain and mud.</p><p><em>Afraid of a challenge, sire?</em> He heard and quickly turned to the side, ready for a quip back, when he realized no one was there.</p><p>Merlin had not been the one to wake him in the morning. He had not been the one to put his armor on. He had not been there to steal bits of his breakfast and give him back-handed pep talks.</p><p>Instead, he’d had to deal with George. And dealing with him, Arthur realized just how much he preferred Merlin’s eccentric service. Arthur had complained loads of times, but he’d rather have the moaning and whining and teasing. At least Merlin felt like a real person. <em>And I felt real, too.</em></p><p>But now was not the time for regrets. As Arthur stood on the arena, face-to-face with Valiant, he slowly put aside all his worries. With each new breath taken, he let go of something, until his mind was clear. The crowds were silent that day and Arthur did not even look to his father, afraid of what he’ll see. Hopefully, this fight will end well. If not, Arthur could very well die.</p><p>He only hoped Merlin was wrong about the magic. How would he fight that? What goo would a sword do? Valiant was a tough opponent as it was.</p><p>He barely heard the call to begin.</p><p>He did not rush, keeping his distance. He figured he’d play defense, let Valiant come at him. Arthur knew the man was a forceful fighter, he preferred to go on the offensive. So, Arthur will let him do just that, let him get comfortable.</p><p>And so, they danced. Valiant came at him and Arthur deflected. He met his sword where he had to, either with a shield or his sword, but otherwise he leapt away before he could get hit. Valiant was a bit bigger than Arthur and was slower. He hoped the man would tire and slow down even more, but it seemed he had plenty of energy to spare. Not to mention confidence. From what Arthur could see of his face, he looked smug, victory already in hand.</p><p>And there, that was when Arthur turned it around. He charged Valiant, swinging brutally at his flank. He hadn’t been expecting it, clearly, because he only barely managed to stop Arthur’s sword from hitting him.</p><p>He heard, somewhere in the background, cheers go up. He barely paid it any mind and swung again and again. He even managed to knock the helmet off Valiant’s stupid head.</p><p>Arthur, to show his fairness, threw his own helmet down. Just then, thunder clapped, the skies alighting with godly light.</p><p>Valiant, who’d been sure of victory, looked less so now. His eyes were wide and his mouth a stern frown.</p><p>
  <em>He’s taking this seriously now. Good.</em>
</p><p>The fight continued.</p><p>It had been going well, until it began to rain.</p><p>The ground turned muddy and slippery. They both struggled to keep their footing. Some people began to leave the stands, but the most curious ones stayed to see the end.</p><p>With the rain falling, it was harder to see. They both kept their distance more and more, wary of slipping up or not hitting the target and wasting a swing.</p><p>Arthur had expected this to keep up. He was already tiring, but he prepared himself for a drawn out battle.</p><p>He shouldn’t have.</p><p>Valiant took him by surprise. He was quicker than Arthur gave him credit for and he hit hard, making Arthur lose his grip on his sword.</p><p>The crowd did not seem happy to see the Camelot champion in this position.</p><p>Arthur quickly backed away, trying to see if there was any way he could reach his sword, but Valiant blocked it. It was too risky and not worth it at all. At this point, the fight would be stopped, but he knew Valiant would not. He would keep going until Arthur was dead.</p><p>Arthur blinked rapidly, trying to keep the water out of his eyes. He saw Valiant’s shield, the picture on it shimmering and moving. He figured it was just blurry from the water and maybe Arthur had hit his head a little too hard. But, through the sound of pouring rain, he heard a distinct hissing.</p><p>Merlin was right. And Arthur was likely a dead man.</p><p>The crowd gasped, shocked.</p><p>“Guards! Seize him!” he heard from somewhere above him. <em>Father, he-</em></p><p>“I don’t think so!” Valiant shouted. “Your guards won’t make it here before he dies. This ends, here and now.”</p><p>Valiant’s eyes looked final. He was prepared to cut down an unarmed man and all for what?</p><p>“Arthur! Grab this!”</p><p>He turned and saw a sword and attached to it was Morgana. He’d been pressed all the way to the bleachers, cornered like an animal. But Morgana was giving him an out.</p><p>He had no thought, but to grab the sword and deflect the sudden blow that came from Valiant. The snakes on his shield hissed and writhed in the air, mouths open with their fangs showing, venom dripping.</p><p>Arthur made quick work of them, cutting the two heads in one swift move. Valiant, caught by surprise, put the shield down and made as if to look at it.</p><p>Arthur took his chance.</p><p>With one powerful jab, he pierced through Valiant’s mail, going for the weak spot. He ran his sword clean through and the man’s mouth sputtered with blood.</p><p>He pulled his sword out and Valiant fell with a heavy thud, blood seeping into the muddy ground of the arena.</p><p>The rain kept falling, slowly washing it all away.</p><p>The crowd cheered, jubilant in this defeat of wretched sorcery yet again.</p><p>Arthur felt eyes on him and turned quickly, looking out to the entrance to the arena. But no one was there.</p><p>It was just an empty archway, stained with rain.</p><hr/><p>Merlin felt more than saw a presence near him. He didn’t want to turn to look, for fear of it being the person he least desired to speak with in the moment.</p><p>Someone cleared their throat and Merlin resigned himself to an uncomfortable conversation, so he turned to finally face the prince. Except it wasn’t Arthur who was trying to get his attention.</p><p>“Sigeweard!”</p><p>“Hello, Merlin,” he replied with a small smile. He, like the rest of the people at the feast, seemed to be in a somber mood. Not even Arthur’s victory could overpower it. But a death would do that, he supposed.</p><p>“How’s the arm coming along?” Merlin asked, seeing that it was still in a sling, but it was good manners to ask.</p><p>“Good. It’s good. Listen…” he began, looking down. “I wanted to apologize.”</p><p>“Apologize?! Whatever for?”</p><p>“It was my fault,” he said, voice vehement and fist clenching. He suddenly looked angry, but not at Merlin. He looked up and his face cleared of anger, sadness taking its place. “If it hadn’t been for me being a nuisance, maybe Sir Ewan would’ve lived. I caused an unnecessary distraction, got in the way of important work.”</p><p>“What? No, if anyone’s to blame, it’s me! It was my job to keep an eye on him. Gaius entrusted me with this task and. I failed him. I failed and now a person is dead, because I was too busy being an idiot.”</p><p>“You’re both idiots,” a familiar voice suddenly broke them out of their guilty ranting. The both of them turned to Arthur. He was dressed in his fineries, a silver circlet on his head and a grand red cape on his shoulders. He looked ready to be king, and going by the ladies tittering behind them, he wasn’t the only one who noticed.</p><p>“Merlin,” Arthur said.</p><p>“Arthur.”</p><p>“Prince Arthur! Congratulations on your win! It appears you’re this year’s champion,” Sigeweard said, face lighting up.</p><p>“<em>Again</em>,” Merlin murmured under his breath. He was trying not to be bitter. Perhaps, going by Arthur’s expression, he wasn’t quite successful.</p><p>“Again. Though I suppose I had some help this year,” he acknowledged. And, <em>wow</em>. He looked quite good when he was being humble. Maybe Merlin could get used to this.</p><p>“Regardless,” he continued, “it was no one’s fault but Valiant’s that Sir Ewan died. He’s the one who chose to kill a man in cold blood all for some coin and glory.”</p><p>The two of them wilted, relieved to be not blamed and moved by Arthur’s words.</p><p>“Perhaps you are right, Prince Arthur,” Sigeweard said.</p><p>“Of course I am. And you can call me Arthur, we’ve known each other for how long now?”</p><p>“Ah, yes,” Sigeweard replied, looking embarrassed. Merlin had never seen him so bashful. “Apologies, sire. I suppose it’s just difficult to break some habits of decorum.”</p><p>Arthur snorted. “Well keep hanging around Merlin and those habits will break very quickly.”</p><p>“Hey!” Merlin said, offended. Though he really had no place to be, seeing as it was true. Merlin was not a fan of all the titles and whatnot. The only one he wouldn’t try being friendly with is the king, because he already had reason to want Merlin dead and he wasn’t about to give him more.</p><p>Sigeweard smiled. “He already laughed at my failed attempts at courting.”</p><p>“You said I was allowed!”</p><p>“Yeah, but you didn’t have to.”</p><p>Merlin threw his hands up. “You people are impossible.”</p><p>Sigeweard and Arthur snickered. Taking pleasure at his expense? What else could be expected of nobility?</p><p>Sigeweard grimaced suddenly, having jostled his arm.</p><p>“Are you alright there? I can take a look.”</p><p>“No, no, it’s fine. Just moved it wrong.” He sighed then, deep and heavy. “This isn’t my first time. Lord only knows how man broken bones and twisted ankles I’ve suffered through the years.”</p><p>“Why not quit then?” Merlin asked. “If it’s something you’re not good at and it keeps hurting you, why not find something that you like?”</p><p>“It’s not that easy,” he began, but Merlin quickly cut him off.</p><p>“Not easy? Being a peasant isn’t easy! You wake up at arsecrack of dawn and work almost all day tending the field and the animals. And then there’s all the other stuff, like cleaning and making clothes. People can’t leave that so easily. If you’re born a peasant, you’ll probably die one as well. But you, you’ve got <em>time</em>. You have the ability to spend it on almost anything, so long as you’ve got the money. And I imagine you do. So screw the expectations! It’s your life, right? You do with it as you please.”</p><p>The two knights stood in shocked silence, completely not seeing this outburst coming.</p><p>“But. But what if father disinherits me?”</p><p>“Then you find your own way.”</p><p>“And just how will I do that?”</p><p>“I heard friends can be of help,” Merlin said and his eyes drifted to the side, where Arthur was standing. “Don’t be afraid to ask for help. It can come from the most unexpected of places. All it takes is a leap of faith. And if you miss your mark? Well, someone will be there to catch you.”</p><p>Sigeweard looked helpless, his eyes watering and making him look even more a child than his youthful face. His lip quivered a bit, then he took a deep breath and smiled.</p><p>“You’ve got quite the wisdom, Merlin.”</p><p>“Wisdom, eh?” Arthur asked, smirk in place. And Merlin was just ready for a quip. “Maybe our Merlin here should become a learned man. Then he could go around giving dubious advice about <em>setting the mood </em>to elderly ladies.” <em>And there it is.</em></p><p>“You’re the one who told me that story in the first place! I only followed it to its natural conclusion.”</p><p>“I don’t know about <em>natural</em>…”</p><p>“You’re just jealous Lady Ana is seeing more action being eighty than you do being twenty.” He’d been hoping that would get a rise out of Arthur, but the prat only smirked.</p><p>“I am seeing plenty of action, <em>Mer</em>lin. Didn’t you see the fights?”</p><p>“Ah, so I’m right. You do use violence as an outlet for sexual frustration.” Now this, this got Arthur to turn a shade of red very quickly approaching the color of his cape.</p><p>“Merlin!” he said, a bit loudly, enough that the people around them turned their way. He quickly composed himself, turning back into the gleaming champion, a prince of refined manner. Merlin could only snort. <em>He’ll always be a brute in my heart. Wait. Ew.</em></p><p>They were distracted from any further banter by a giggling near them. Merlin was shocked to see Sigeweard, holding a hand to his mouth, trying to stifle his laugh.</p><p>“Are you always like this?” he asked once he managed to stop.</p><p>“Like what?”</p><p>“Always bickering.”</p><p>“Well, our first meeting started as an argument,” Arthur said.</p><p>“Which you later turned into a full blown fight,” Merlin finished.</p><p>“Yes and I very graciously did not throw you in the stocks for it. Some gratitude could be appreciated.”</p><p>“Appreciated! I saved your life and what do I get?”</p><p>“The honor of serving me?”</p><p>“Hah! Honor. Honor, my arse. What honor is there in washing your underclothes?”</p><p>“Don’t speak of my underclothes in public!”</p><p>“Or what? Oh no, everyone will find out you wear normal clothes like everyone else.”</p><p>“You-”</p><p>Their little verbal match was broken by some laughter. They turned back to Sigeweard, who was holding his stomach, trying not to double over.</p><p>“Oh,” he wheezed out. “Oh, you two. You could go on like this a whole day, can’t you?”</p><p>“I dunno, I imagine with my immense stamina, I could go for longer.”</p><p>Merlin snorted. Stamina or no, Merlin had magic to keep him going and he hand no doubt he’d last longest.</p><p>“You doubt me?” Arthur asked.</p><p>“No, sire. Never.”</p><p>“I know you’re being sarcastic.”</p><p>“I would never do such a thing. Not to you!”</p><p>“Alright, alright.”</p><p>“Ah, you two have been most entertaining, I must say. But I need to go rest now, this arm is really taking it out of me.”</p><p>“If you need more potions, don’t be shy. Just drop by the physician’s quarters. Gaius or I should be able to assist you.”</p><p>Thank you, Merlin. For everything. You should treasure your manservant, sire. He seems like a special one.”</p><p>Merlin and Arthur both tensed, but Sigeweard didn’t seem to notice and left when Arthur gave him a nod of dismissal.</p><p>And then it was just the two of them, stuck together in silence. Horrible, awkward, silence. Merlin looked around, trying to find someone, anyone, who could distract him, but his attention was pulled back by Arthur.</p><p>“Merlin.”</p><p>Merlin said nothing. He waited for Arthur to continue, because surely there was more to come.</p><p>“It appears that I may have made a mistake.”</p><p>“<em>May have</em>.”</p><p>Arthur sighed, eyes closing as he seemed to gather all his patience. Merlin isn’t going to make this any easier.</p><p>“I <em>did</em>. I did make a mistake. I accused you of something which you did not do. It was wrong of me.” As he spoke, his eyes rose and they peered into Merlin’s, gaze steady. “I was unfair to you. I lashed out in anger. I felt a fool when I thought you humiliated me, but I felt an even bigger fool when I realized you were right. You didn’t deserve my scorn and for that, I apologize.”</p><p>“Yes, you did lash out. And you were unfair.” Arthur breathed in sharply and looked away. For the first time, Merlin saw Arthur ashamed. He decided he didn’t like it much. “But it’s not like it came out of nowhere. I gave you no reason to believe me, especially with how I’ve been acting. It was stupid and childish and you could’ve been hurt all because I couldn’t just quit.”</p><p>“Why didn’t you?”</p><p>“Guess I didn’t want to give up. Felt like I’d be losing.”</p><p>Arthur’s face formed into something that looked like a tentative smile. The light in his eyes appeared to come back.</p><p>“You’re a fool, Merlin,” he said, though he didn’t sound mocking. If anything, it almost sounded fond.</p><p>“Well, that makes two of us, then.”</p><p>Arthur snorted and the tension seeped out.</p><p>“You know, I think I should follow Sigeweard’s advice,” Arthur said.</p><p>Merlin looked at him questioningly.</p><p>“Would you be my manservant once more?”</p><p>Merlin crossed his arms and raised an unimpressed brow.</p><p>“O-only if you want to, that is. I know I haven’t been the best. I suppose I was only trying to rile you, see what you would do.”</p><p>“I’m not some lizard to poke with a stick.”</p><p>“No, you’re not.”</p><p>“But, I did sort of do the same to you, so fair’s fair.”</p><p>“So, you <em>were</em> doing all that on purpose!”</p><p>“Of course I was. What, you thought I was just some dim-witted fool?”</p><p>“Well…”</p><p>“You know what? I was going to accept, but I think I just changed my mind.” And with that, he turned to go.</p><p>“I – Merlin! Wait!” Arthur didn’t let him get far, gripping him by the shoulder and turning him around. Merlin didn’t bother hiding his grin.</p><p>“You’re fucking with me again, aren’t you?”</p><p>“Uh-huh,” he said, laughter in his voice.</p><p>Arthur let out the biggest sigh yet, but he had a smile on his face and he let out a small laugh himself.</p><p>“You’re a menace.”</p><p>“I know. But, you’re willingly saddling yourself with this menace, so you can’t complain.”</p><p>“No, I suppose I can’t.”</p><p>They stood in silence once more, but this time it was comfortable instead of awkward. They stood side by side, overlooking the crowds of people attempting cheer amidst all the gloom.</p><p>“That was some apology, I must say,” Merlin said.</p><p>“It was…decent?” Arthur asked, sounding a bit unsure. It was weird seeing his confidence waver when usually he was boasting about and parading his skills.</p><p>“Let’s just say, if you ever get married, I’m sure your wife would forgive you anything if you apologized like that.”</p><p>Arthur snorted. “If I had a wife I imagine I’d choose to apologize in an entirely different manner,” he replied with a smirk.</p><p>Merlin’s face scrunched up. “Ew.”</p><p>“And wait a – what do you mean ‘if’?”</p><p>“Well, you’re <em>you</em>. I can’t imagine you’ve got many ladies lining up for your hand.”</p><p>“I’m the prince! <em>And</em> a champion! Plenty of ladies are vying for my hand!” He said this vehemently, though he spat it all out in a quiet tone. Then he jerked back, face heating up as the words caught up to him.</p><p>Merlin’s contained laughter finally burst free. He was sure he probably drew some curious looks, but he didn’t see them as he couldn’t even keep his eyes open.</p><p>“Right. Well, I’ve said my piece. I’ll leave you to enjoy your evening,” Merlin heard Arthur seethe through his laughter. Through his scrunched-up eyes he saw Arthur turning away.</p><p>He was leaving.</p><p>“Wait,” Merlin said suddenly, arm lashing out to grab Arthur.</p><p>The man stopped and turned back to Merlin.</p><p>“I – uh. I meant to say that I…I’m sorry. As well.”</p><p>“<em>You’re</em> sorry? For what?”</p><p>“You were right about one thing; I did handle it all quite poorly. I got so caught up in this conspiracy and I was so sure I got him…”</p><p>“You celebrated a victory before you even won it,” he said, understanding in his voice.</p><p>“Yes. And I put you on the spot. I’m used to things being simple, but court life is different. Appearances matter here. I really didn’t mean to embarrass you. But I did. And I’ll try not to, in the future.”</p><p>“Well, at least you’ll try,” Arthur replied in a droll tone. “Though, I’m not holding out for much hope.”</p><p>“Hey! You’re the one who offered me my job back!”</p><p>“I did, didn’t I. Gods have mercy.”</p><p>“Why did you, then?”</p><p>“Why did you accept?”</p><p>“I asked you first.”</p><p>“I asked you second.” Merlin raised a brow. “And I’m the prince. I order you to answer first.”</p><p>“Someone has to watch over you, make sure you don’t get killed.”</p><p>“And that person is <em>you</em>?”</p><p>“Well I’ve managed twice now.”</p><p>“How did you save me from Valiant?”</p><p>“I warned you, didn’t I?”</p><p>“I suppose…but if it hadn’t been for his shield malfunctioning he might’ve never been exposed.”</p><p>“Perhaps. But it did. And you were prepared to handle it. Plus, you were vindicated in front of everyone <em>and</em> you won.”</p><p>“Yes, yes, alright. You’re not a total disaster. Still, I imagine with you involved there will be more trouble rather than less.”</p><p> “Oi!”</p><hr/><p>The next morning, the foreign knights all departed. The fallen knight’s body had been carefully wrapped to be taken to his homeland, escorted by Camelot’s best knights headed by Sir Leon. Then, his body would delivered to his family who would mourn him and lay him to rest as they saw fit.</p><p>Uther, of course, would only use this death as a cudgel to enforce once again that magic was the root of all evil.  </p><p>Morgana had sat at her window and watched the processions as they left the citadel and then beyond the city walls into the great unknown.</p><p>That had been morning. Now it was approaching night and she was preparing for sleep.</p><p>She stood in front of her bed and did not move an inch. The bed was freshly made, soft as clouds, and warm. She never once had a complaint; it was in every sense, perfect. Yet now she hesitated. She knew this perfection would quickly lead her to sleep, which is exactly where she didn’t want to be.</p><p>She considered going to sit by the fire in her chaise, but she’d end up falling asleep there, too. It’d happened before.</p><p>“Morgana? Are you alright?” she heard from beside her. Gwen, bless her soul, watched her lady with worry and care.</p><p>“I’m fine. Just lost in thought, I suppose.”</p><p>“Mmm,” Gwen hummed in agreement. “It has been stressful these past few days.”</p><p>“Yes. Which is why you need to go lie down, now. I think I’ll be fine for the night.”</p><p>“A-are you sure? There isn’t anything else I can do?”</p><p>“No, Gwen. You have done all you can. And then some. You’re always so good to me.” She couldn’t help but look at her maid, just for a bit. Her eyes shone in the candlelight and her frazzled hair framed her face beautifully. Her cheeks were flushed from working and she looked as alive as ever. She took Gwen’s hands and squeezed.</p><p>Then, she let go and climbed into bed. Gwen helped her with the covers, then when Morgana was all settled, she placed a small kiss on her forehead and said, “Goodnight, my lady.”</p><p>“Goodnight, Gwen,” she replied, voice soft as a whisper. Gwen put out the candles and left her chambers, giving one final backwards glance.</p><p>Once the door shut, Morgana took a deep breath, as though in preparation for some great battle. This is what she feared most in the world: falling asleep. Sleeping meant dreaming and dreaming meant knowing.</p><p>She did not want to know. She did not want to <em>see. </em></p><p>She only wanted peace.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>owo what's this? a morgana pov? </p><p>there will probably be a gwen pov in the future, too, as i begin to develop their relationship. but for now, its going to mostly be merlin and arthur, with the occasional morgana having her dreams and dealing with them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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